Agents of Imperial Intelligence
by Hibbidyhai
Summary: Set nine years after the events of Star Wars: Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith, a brilliant young starship engineer finds himself conscripted into the Empire's pre-eminent spy agency, Imperial Intelligence. Forced to work for an Empire he despises, he and an unorthodox team of Imperial Agents are tasked with hunting down a rogue pirate bent on revenge against the Empire.
1. Prologue

Star Wars

Agents of Imperial Intelligence

A Fanfic by Hibbidyhai

 **Prologue**

A Separatist fleet hung above the atmosphere of the planet Reshan like bits of flotsam drifting in a pool. Droid fighters poured from the cruisers, accelerating at high speed through a hailstorm of enemy fire. They ducked and weaved through the blasts, many of them caught in fiery explosions. Republic fighters sped out to meet the incoming threat, firing spreads of missiles that connected with some of the droid fighters, exploding in colorful fireballs of superheated gas and shrapnel.

Still in hyperspace, the Republic Venator-class cruiser _Hunter_ approached the battle. On the bridge, the crew alerted the flight deck as they approached the exit point.

Down in the hanger clone and recruited pilots alike began donning their flight gear and mounting up inside their fighter and bomber craft. Clone troopers began boarding their armed dropships in a true example of efficiency.

Up on the bridge, the crew began checking the readiness of the flight leaders and the gun crew chiefs. The huge blast-resistant doors at the back of the hangar spread open and through them strode Captain Jaelin Teiken.

"Captain on the bridge!" the door sentry announced.

The first mate, currently overseeing the sensor station crew, turned and saluted Captain Teiken. Teiken was unorthodox compared to most captains in the Republic fleet. He was not from Coruscant or any of the other core worlds. He wore a blaster at his hip, even when on the bridge. And he hadn't graduated from the Republic fleet academies, or trained with the cloners on Kamino. He had earned his position in battle, rescuing the very Republic cruiser he now commanded from a Separatist boarding party when he had served in a planetary security fleet.

"At ease," Captain Teiken nodded towards his first mate, Commander Cronus.

"We've almost arrived at Reshan," Cronus informed him. "We are going in hot."

"Looks like the admiral couldn't wait for us," Teiken said. "Drop us out of hyperspace a little closer to the battle, otherwise we may miss out. Report on the enemy fleet composition?"

"Half a dozen cruisers and another dozen large transports. Looks like they were spotted making their way down the Rimma trade route. They seem to be left-overs from the attack on Coruscant."

A lieutenant handed Captain Teiken a datapad and he scanned the intelligence report that was already brought up on it. Not being a very enthusiastic skimmer, he decided to check with his loyal first mate. Cronus had served with him for years, before Teiken had taken command of the _Hunter_. Cronus always devoured every report he came across.

"Know anything about the planet?" Teiken asked.

"It's a backwater. Unremarkable in every way. The Separatists apparently have a supply depot down there."

Teiken found a picture of the planet on the datapad. It was an ugly bluish green world, with very little water. The tallest plants on the surface were waist high ferns, and there were no large mountains or canyons.

"Yeah, unremarkable..." Teiken agreed. He returned the datapad to the lieutenant and began walking past the various crew pits. Unlike most Republic cruisers, the _Hunter's_ crew was majority non-clone. He had brought them with him when he had taken his command in the Republic fleet after rescuing the _Hunter_ , despite reservations from high command. The war had stretched the Republic's resources thinly, and as long as Teiken kept the _Hunter_ combat effective, they were allowed to continue on. It was one less cruiser for the Republic to staff.

As he approached the front of the bridge and the giant viewport, he noticed the _Hunter's_ resident Jedi, Priva. Priva was a Sephi, a near-human species from the Thustra system. Their defining features were their pointed ears, and they also had a wider variety of skin tones than humans. Priva's was a light blue color. She was also a teenager, by far the youngest person aboard. She was also probably the strangest, at least in Teiken's opinion.

Teiken approached her casually, and without much noise. She noticed him all the same, although she seemed to be entranced by the swirl of hyperspace.

"Captain..." she greeted.

"Commander," Teiken answered.

"Hmm...it's Padawan," she corrected. Teiken knew from the report he had received from the fleet that Priva's master had died in a battle with the Separatists. The Jedi were stretched thinly across the galaxy, and yet the Republic badly needed their strange abilities against the enemy, and so she had continued her service alone.

"While you are on the ship, it's Commander. You know you outrank most people aboard, right?" Teiken asked.

"Padawan," Priva responded.

"Okay...Padawan," Teiken gave up.

"Since I outrank them, they will call me Padawan," Priva said, sticking up her chin.

Teiken shrugged and began to walk back towards his first mate. "Teenagers..."

Before he got halfway back he heard Priva call from the viewport. "We should reinforce our bridge shields. In this area..." she waved her arm around vaguely to the right. The crewman in that area glanced at her nervously.

Teiken already had enough experience with Jedi and their premonitions to take her seriously. He walked quickly to the navigation crew pit, intending to get the time until their arrival, when a warning klaxon sounded, along with a flash of yellow light. They were one minute from dropping out of hyperspace and entering the system.

Teiken turned sharply and yelled into the weapons and shield crew pit. "Bridge shields up, two hundred percent power!" The lieutenant at the shielding control panel followed his order without question. In the forward view port the barely perceptible blue glow of the shields became more opaque.

"Captain," Commander Cronus stood next to Teiken. "At two hundred percent power the shield projector will only last a few minutes without blowing out. Any reason for the extreme caution?"

"Something the Jedi said," Teiken answered simply. The ensuing half minute seemed to stretch for an eternity. Despite her warning Priva didn't move from her spot in front of the forward viewport.

"Dropping out of hyperspace now," the navigation crew chief announced. As if on cue the swirling wormhole of hyperspace dissolved into starlines, and then points of light.

Almost immediately there was an enormous explosion as a massive chunk of debris smashed into the bridge. The floor shook and the lights flickered but Teiken maintained his balance. Cronus nearly fell into a nearby crew pit.

"Status of our shields?" Teiken asked.

After shaking a moment of shock from his face the crewman answered, "Fifteen percent sir!"

"Without the reinforced shields that would have punched through," Cronus added, straightening his disheveled uniform. "What was it?"

The sensor station revealed the answer. A piece of a separatist cruiser, a blown apart engine pod, had impacted against the shields. Without the Priva's warning, they undoubtedly would have died.

Without much more hesitation the bridge crew resumed their duties. The _Hunter_ accelerated to full sublight speed before opening the hangar doors. In front of the bridge viewport squadrons of fighters and bombers sped up and out of the Venator class cruiser's long hangar. The fleet battle ahead of them was already winding down, despite their closer than usual drop-in point.

Regardless, Captain Teiken received a warm welcome from the fleet Admiral, who had just commanded the dropships to enter the atmosphere in order to take control of the Separatist supply depot on the surface. The Hunter's numerous dropships sped outwards, joining up with the rest of the Republic force.

"Encrypted communication for Commander Trepp," the communication chief announced. "Patch it through to him," Commander Cronus nodded. The Clone Commander was aboard one of the drop ships currently entering the atmosphere, although a contingent of clone security personnel remained aboard, just in case of an emergency.

Captain Teiken checked the main holoprojector and opened up the latest intelligence reports. Battles were currently raging across the galaxy, mostly in the outer rim. And after their devastating defeat at Coruscant, the Confederacy seemed to be on the defensive. The Republic was making gains in almost every contested sector. And then Teiken read the latest alert.  
"Cronus!" Teiken called. His first mate approached the holoprojector. "It's General Grievous. He's been killed."  
"Is that confirmed?" Cronus asked before reading the message and confirming it for himself.  
"Perhaps the war is finally beginning to burn out," Teiken remarked, half to himself. He gazed absentmindedly towards the viewport. The galaxy seemed completely different, before the war compared to now. Remembering a largely peaceful and prosperous galaxy was like trying to remember a dream.  
Behind Teiken the bridge's lift doors opened and out strode three clone troopers armed with heavy blaster rifles. They passed by the Captain, who noticed their presence. At first the oddness didn't register. After all, clone troopers were more than a common sight aboard a Republic cruiser. However they were incredibly well armed.

Before he thought to question their presence all three raised their blasters and aimed them at Priva, who appeared to have her eyes closed in meditation. Alarm bells immediately went off in Teiken's head. Without forethought his hand went to the blaster he usually wore as a mere flair of decoration.

Taken by surprise, his reflexes weren't fast enough. All three of the troopers opened fire at once, burying their shots into the Padawan's back. Teiken's blaster shot was late, but accurate, and he landed a blow into the back of one of the clone's helmets, blowing it apart. The other two spun, surprised. It took them a moment to identify the Captain as the threat, but once they did they got their rifles up with military precision.

Teiken fired off another pair of shots, wildly, while he dived behind the command console. Throughout the bridge, the officers were ducking for cover or stood petrified in shock. Commander Cronus, unarmed, had crouched against the wall. Even in a firefight his eyes were narrowed with his usual presence of mind and focus.

The security officer next to the lift had his blaster carbine up, aiming it at both Teiken and the clones, one after the other.

"What are you doing?!" he shouted at the clones, his trembling voice rife with confusion.

"She was an enemy of the Republic!" one of the clones answered. "All allies of the Jedi are enemies of the Republic!"

Teiken couldn't help but notice that the troopers voice seemed a bit...off. Robotic, almost.

"You are an officer of this ship!" Teiken shouted at the security officer. "I am the Captain of this ship, and the bridge is under assault! Remove the threat!"

The security officer sided with his captain, but, as soon as he moved his carbine back to the troopers, they opened fire, blowing him away in a hail of blaster fire.

Teiken responded as soon as he heard the troopers fire. He heard an alarm on the console, sounding the red alert. A warning klaxon sounded overhead and the lights switched from yellow to red. It distracted the troopers for only a fraction of a second, but that was all he needed.

Teiken popped up from behind the console and immediately opened fire. His first pair of shots struck the trooper on the right in his breast plate, right above his heart. The other trooper opened return fire while reflexively ducking for cover. But exposed on the catwalk at the front of the bridge, there was no cover. Teiken's next pair of shots struck the trooper in the forearm and the hip.

Teiken stood out from behind the now damaged console and quickly closed the distance between him and the trooper, who was attempting to raise his heavy rifle with his one undamaged hand. Teiken stepped on the rifle and pointed his blaster at the trooper's face.

"Remove your helmet," Teiken commanded darkly. With only a short painful delay, the trooper lifted his hand and removed his helmet. The familiar face of a clone of Jango Fett was revealed, with a small decorative tattoo above the left eye. Teiken had been wrong, they weren't the commando droid infiltrators he had suspected.

With one finger he flicked his blaster to stun and buried a shot right into the clone troopers face.


	2. Chapter 1: Flight Test

**Chapter One**

Nine Years Later

The sound of metal against metal screeched from within a messy workshop that was large enough to fit a medium sized hover-bus. Mechanical detritus filled the shop, along with two speeders parked against opposite walls. Both of them cannibalized for parts, bits of wire hanging out of them as if they had been attacked by predators and left for dead. Several starship engines hung from chains suspended from the ceiling, and a work bench along one wall was filled with tools and scrap metal.

At the center of the workshop, propped up by the steady stream of four antigravity repulsors, was the ugliest starfighter ever put together. Two massive cylindrical engines were mounted atop a Clone War vintage cockpit, pulled from an Arc-170 bomber. A vertical stabilizer rose between the engines, with a stalk-like sensor pod mounted atop. To the untrained eye it had the look of a skinny blaster cannon.

A heavily modified astromech droid, originally an R2 unit, designated BR2-DE and pronounced "BR" for short, whistled towards the underside of the custom ship, signalling an incoming message. Underneath, covered in grease and oil, was a seventeen year old human. "Hold on BR," he said.

The teenager pushed his dolly out from underneath the fighter. His brown hair was wet with sweat, his long bangs stuck to his forehead. A datapad, connected by a cable to the underside of the fighter, flashed with a bright green light. He tapped the message window beeping at him.

"Kel?" came the inquiring caller. It was his younger, more responsible sister. Her hair, if she hadn't dyed it bright pink, would have been the same color as his. Her eyes were identical to his as well, dark brown.

"Yes!" Kel answered. "I'm here!" Kel was not there. He had placed the datapad on the floor and was back underneath the fighter.

"I don't see you," she sighed. "It's important..."

"I can hear you Kasyndra," Kel reassured her. He began double-checking the connections between the engines and the power supply. Kel was too skilled to create a mechanical error, but most of his parts were pulled from junk heaps. He always tested the parts before he used them, and double-checked everything before the first power up.

"Dad just messaged me. Apparently traffic control has grounded the fleet," Kasyndra announced. Their father ran a successful shipping company, operating medium-sized freighters and handling specialty freight. Kel had become as mechanically inclined as he was after spending years in his father's maintenance hangars. He had been tinkering with engines before most children could read galactic basic.

"Why?" Kel asked. He pushed his dolly out from underneath his ship. Everything had checked out.

"He didn't say. The government has put out alerts and cleared the airspace over the whole continent." Suddenly Kel's interest peaked, something sister apparently could sense. "You know what that means?" she asked.

Kel had been working on his current project for months. Despite being an ugly collection of scrap, he was also using the vessel to test some custom built parts he had designed in his father's shop. Kel was soon scheduled to go off planet in order to attend a prestigious engineering university. If he didn't test fly his ship this afternoon he would have to wait for months until he returned home at the end of his first term.

"Yeah, I got it," Kel sighed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his head. His brown hair was extra dirty at the moment, covered in sweat, dust, and rust.

"You're not going to fly your ship," his sister told him, as if she could decide for him. She knew, however, that Kel rarely listened. "Kel...?"

The bright afternoon sunlight of Jappa's star made his fighter look even uglier than it did inside the shop. Kel sat inside the cockpit, flipping switches. The twin engines, pulled from automated droid ships, roared to life. The engines were meant for a craft the size of a light freighter, but the modular design made them easy to mount to the half of an Arc-170 fighter bomber he had found buried in a junk heap months ago.

Jets of pure blue plasma ignited out the back, sending waves of hot air back into the open doors of the shop. If he hadn't been inside the cockpit, Kel would have heard the crashing cacophony he was inadvertently causing.

Instead, his focus was on the computer screen inside the cockpit. BR2-DE had been installed in the astromech socket behind the cockpit and was analyzing the ship's systems, making sure everything was running properly and inside safe parameters.

Although he had at first been annoyed by his sister's news, the air space clearing ban actually encouraged him. Kel's brilliant engineering prowess had not translated into piloting brilliance. He could fly, yes, and was a fully licensed pilot. Like every other teenager his age, he had dreamed of blasting droid fighters out of the sky alongside the top fighter aces in the galaxy. When he was twelve years old one of the most popular game centers in the capital had installed military surplus flight simulators. Local leagues had sprung up, with teams of virtual fighter pilots competing with each other.

Kel had been horrible in the simulators, and it hadn't been long at all before his friends stopped inviting him to be their wing mate. He was easily distracted by the sounds of his ship, something that the simulators often didn't get quite right. He had no situational awareness, which is what kept you alive in a dog fight.

So, an air space ban meant there weren't any other ships in the sky for him to run into, or strict flight plans for him to follow. Of course, the planetary air traffic controllers would be able to track him, but his fighter wasn't registered, and he had some hidden landing spots out in the uninhabited forests if he needed to ditch his ship. BR2-DE had the coordinates pre-installed.

With his checklist complete, Kel placed his hands on the repulsor controls.

"Ready BR?" When his faithful astromech whistled in the affirmative he flipped the switch and his ship shot into the air like a bolt from a blaster. He quickly brought his ship upwards and over the low lying buildings of his suburban hometown. After gaining enough altitude he decided it was time to run the main engines.

"BR, prepare to open up the engines, run them at 10 percent initially. Run constant analyses."

His astromech complied, and he triggered the ignition. The acceleration drove him into the back of his seat. BR2-DE began feeding data through his cockpit's main screen. The engines, and more importantly his custom designed power plant, were performing flawlessly. He listened to the noise behind him, which rumbled with a satisfying deep thrum. Not the high-pitched whine that Kel found so annoying. He also noted that he felt very little vibration, which meant there was no wasted energy.

A warning screech from BR-2DE brought his attention back to his flying.

"Oh, gods and stars!" Kel exclaimed, jamming his flight stick backwards. His ship shot upwards, and away from an incoming mountain top. "Warn me sooner BR," Kel sighed.

He pulled up into a higher altitude, eliminating the chance of any further close calls. He leaned over and tilted his ship, getting a good look at the terrain below. He had flown halfway across his home continent.

He began to turn back on a lazy curve, steering his test flight back in the direction of home, when BR2-DE once again gave him a warning signal. His ship had no long range sensors installed yet, so we was relying on his astromech's short range scanners to detect incoming vessels. Because of the travel ban he hadn't expected any.

BR2-DE warned him of an incoming speeder approaching on an intercept course.

"Uh, any identification?" Kel asked. No information, his droid replied, it was too distant. If he had to guess, Kel thought it was likely one of the planetary security force's patrol speeders. They had to have detected him on scanners and were sending the speeder to ground him. Unfortunately he had no communication equipment installed and wouldn't be able to respond to the patroller's requests, even if he wanted to.

"Right, let's see what these engines can do," Kel said. Based on the telemetry data BR2-DE was feeding him, the speeder was coming in at a high angle. The patroller would try to get behind him and then turn sharply, putting the speeder on his tail. Kel knew he could avoid that entirely.

He put his ship into a turn in the opposite direction of the speeder and accelerated to twenty-five percent. His airspeed was now more than twice the speed of sound. He dialed up the inertial dampeners, lessening the effects of the G-forces.

Soon enough BR2-DE gave him a relieved whistle. He had sped away from the patroller and put it out of BR's scanner range. He dropped his ship lower to the ground, just above the trees. He figured if he kept up his speed for a few more minutes he would be well out of visual range of the speeder's sensors, and this close to the ground he would be invisible to the security forces planetary scanners.

Kel twisted his neck and tried to relieve some of the tension. It was time to head to one of his hidden landing spots and go home.

oOoOo

The Imperial Star Destroyer _Inferno Star_ dropped out of hyperspace above Jappa. The destroyer accelerated at cruising speed towards the blue-green orb as if it were a bone-white dagger pointed towards the heart of the planet.

The ship settled into a wide orbit around Jappa, the second planet in the system. Underneath the destroyer an imperial shuttle dropped downwards, its wings folding down from the triangular landing formation into flight mode. Behind it, four Imperial TIE fighters, as much a symbol of Imperial power as the destroyer from which they emerged, sped into flanking formation.

Imperial Intelligence Agent Dekai sat in the back row of the passenger section inside the shuttle, his hand stroking the small beard he wore on his chin, against standard military protocol. He was a tall and thin man, a permanent serious set to his brow. He was not yet forty standard cycles old, but the stresses of spywork had already began to grey his black, close cropped hair.

He wore a uniform of similar to that of a lieutenant in the Imperial Army, although he did not wear the standard rank badges. Instead he wore only a patch on one sleeve, marking him as a high level operative in the Empire's secretive spynet. Unlike their rivals in the Imperial Security Bureau, who wore stark white uniforms with proper military rank badges, agents working for Imperial Intelligence preferred to blend into their surroundings, like a watchful shade.

In the row of seats in front of Dekai sat a handful of attendants along with the Moff Sawn, the ultimate overseer of the sector. Sawn was travelling to Jappa to meet with the system governor, a man by the name of Sant. The trip was officially an inspection of the new military base that was under construction in the capital. The unofficial objectives were why Dekai found himself aboard a shuttle en route to a boring mid rim world no one more than a dozen parsecs away knew the name of.

Dekai's overt mission was to inspect the systems holonet relay station. The holonet was the communication system that tied the galaxy together. Communication packets were projected through hyperspace between systems, resulting in near real time communication no matter where the origin and destination of the data. The new holonet relay was more important and noteworthy than the military base, and most average citizens were barely aware of its existence.

The size of a small asteroid, the holonet relay was practically a starship in its own right. Equipped with a hyperdrive, albeit a very slow one, it could be moved and relocated if need be. It had self defenses, in order to defend from salvagers or those hoping to illegally slice into the holonet. And besides the standard communication equipment, this relay also had hidden systems designed by Imperial Intelligence itself. Monitoring equipment, controlled by droid brains, noted all communications that passed through the relay. Data packets would be periodically piggybacked on top of standard data flows and sent to Coruscant. There Imperial Intelligence had massive data centers that could splice the information. Suspicious activity could be noted and monitored, and those who were on an Imperial watchlist could have their conversations replayed.

Dekai really didn't know too much about the technology of it all, but the Moff and the other officials didn't really need to know of his ignorance. Because that mission, as authentic as it might be, was just a cover. His true purpose, kept secret from even Moff Sawn, was an investigation of Jappa's governor. Dekai's most trusted and skilled analyst back on Coruscant had noticed peculiarities with the construction of the base. Funds had been siphoned away from the project, and there were no top-secret reasons the credits would have been missing from the account. Dekai strongly suspected the governor was pocketing the missing funds, however, there was the remote possibility he was doing something even less untowards.

Determining what sort of corruption was going on, and if it was the variety of corruption the Empire could tolerate, was Dekai's true purpose. At the very least, the money laundering would be noted by Intelligence, to be used for blackmail purposes if the need ever arose.

Dekai attempted to reflect on his mission at hand, and ignore the incessant prattling of the officials in the row in front of him. He attempted to let it all fade into a sort of white noise, and eagerly awaited the end of their trip and arrival planetside.

Raised voices from the cockpit section interrupted his meditation. He focused his attention, trying to pick out their voices amidst the conversation in front him.

"...unknown fighter inside of airspace, be warned. Approach vector is not clear." The voice was coming over the comm, and seemed to belong to a traffic control operator on the ground. The pilots glanced at each other and then opened their comm channel to the TIE fighter escort.

Dekai unbuckled his restraint and moved out of his row of his seats. He passed the Moff and the others, who were yet oblivious to the situation, and approached the sensor station. A young flight officer sat staring intently at a heads up display, reading the telemetry data.

"What's going on?" Dekai asked.

The officer jumped a bit as he was snapped from his focus. "Uh, there is an unknown ship inside our approach vector," he answered.

"Is it hostile?" Dekai asked.

"Unknown," the officer shook his head. Without having to be asked, he pulled up a long distance visual scan. The ship was hard to recognize, for the distance involved distorted the view. But it was definitely not any standard ship Dekai recognized. And his intelligence training required him to recognize quite a bit.

By this time the Moff had finally became aware of the disturbance and inquired as well. Sawn was a middle-aged military veteran, and the hostile ship didn't seem to phase him too much.

"Just shoot it down," the Moff shrugged and reassumed his seat. While the Moff continued his previous conversation, Dekai stared intently at the sensor station, eagerly awaiting the impending confrontation as half their escort sped away to deal with the potential threat.

oOoOo

Kel was only a few kilometers away from his landing spot, which was hidden amongst the wild forest, when BR2-DE screeched in another terrified alert. There were two ships incoming at high speed. Kel read from the heads-up-display that translated his droid's language, ascertaining the speed of the incoming ships. They were way too fast to be more patrol speeders, and they would be on top of him in moments.

He banked his ship sharply and once again hit his accelerator. As the two ships were coming in from above, he would be unable to hide from their scanners near the tops of the trees.

"BR, do everything to boost your scanners, draw power from the ship if you need to and override your safety parameters. I need to know what is about to vape us," Kel commanded, trying to keep the panic from his voice. He wasn't succeeding.

He had accelerated back up to twenty five percent power and his ships engines were humming along without complaint. And yet the two ships were still catching him.

After only a few moments BR2-DE returned results from his boosted scanning. Whatever nerve Kel had steeled away evaporated. The two ships were not patrol speeders, and they weren't even the old Z-95 Head Hunters that the local defense force flew. They were Imperial tie-fighters, the latest T.I.E/In variety.

As the cold grip of fear froze his heart Kel fumbled his flight stick, and for a short moment his ship ducked too close to the trees. The top of an enormous biffur tree, whose fruit was a local export, exploded against his cockpit, showers of wood, bark, and innocent woodland critters were thrown about in a terrific shock wave.

"Frack!" Kel exclaimed, regaining control and gaining some altitude.

The tie's had pulled even with him, matching his speed and flying above him. Kel guessed they were getting a good look at his unusual ship before they blew him out of the sky.

The bone-shaking screech of the tie's namesake twin ion engines sent shockwaves into his cockpit, making his teeth rattle. The TIE fighters cut their speed slightly and dropped behind him. Kel knew he was moments from death.

Thoughts of his family and friends, and all that he was leaving behind, flashed briefly through his mind. He did not want to die.

Spurred on by pure survival instincts, Kel jammed his accelerator all the way forward. His ship shot forward, more than doubling his speed in less than a second. The inertial dampeners lagged behind the sudden increase, shoving him hard into his seat.

A sudden flash of light was followed by a shockwave of superheated air that shook his fighter. Two blasts from the tie's cannons narrowly missed him, intersecting in the space his ship would have been without his sudden dash forward. Kel banked again, back towards his original direction, before the tie pilots could get another shot on him. The most advanced fighters in the galaxy increased their speed, quickly catching up to him.

His ship had handled twenty five percent power flawlessly, but now, at over fifty percent, a vibration between the engines had begun. But Kel knew he had to push on.

"BR, override the flight computer's subroutines, maximize power from the reactor," he ordered. His astromech gave him a dutiful warning, but followed his order. He couldn't push his accelerator any further, since the control stick was already pushed all the way forward. Boosting the ship's reactor risked blowing the power couplings. However, the engines should be able cope with the energy since they had been manufactured for a ship three times bigger than what Kel had strapped them to.

The vibration got worse, and was now followed by warning alerts lighting up all over his console. His electrical system was in the process of blowing out, taking out his repulsor flight controls. He was at seventy-five percent power.

Warped by static, Kel had to squint to make out the two fighters on his sensor screen. He was beginning to pull away from them. Whatever excitement he felt was blown away by a flurry of blaster fire erupting around him. Kel had no shields. It would only take one hit to blow him apart.

He knew it was only a matter of time before his ship erupted into a ball of fire, even if the tie pilot's failed to land a shot on him. His speed was actually begin to drop slightly, as the vibration damage was beginning to sap the power reaching the engines. He briefly attempted to think of crazy flight tricks that would get him on an escape vector. Spins and flips were out of the question, as he was liable to run himself into the ground under normal circumstances. He could make for space, but he had not installed a hyperdrive, so he had nowhere to go even if he got away. And with his repulsors blown out he would be unable to land even if he managed to evade pursuit. There was only one way he could get out of this alive.

"BR, prepare to..." Suddenly there was an explosion behind his cockpit. A shower of sparks penetrated his cockpit, burning through his flight suit. He cried out in pain as superheated bits of metal burned against his skin.

For a moment he thought he had been hit by the ties. And then, with a mix of dread and sorrow, he realized the truth. The electrical system had shorted out BR2-DE, who had plugged himself directly into the power system in order to boost his scanners. His poor astromech had exploded. To some people droids were mere tools, just property. But to Kel, BR2-DE, who he had put together himself out of scrap and spare parts, he had been a friend. And he was responsible for his death.

But he didn't have time to mourn. Kel struggled to keep his ship on a level flight path. Without his astromech, who had reinforced the partially completed flight computer, he could barely control the ship. With only a spare glance at his surrounding terrain Kel reached under his flight chair and pulled a lever, activating his ejection seat.


	3. Chapter 2: Life

**Chapter Two**

Now that their shuttle had entered the atmosphere and was well on its way to the capital, Dekai was able to get a pretty good view of the chase. The sensor data was being streamed from a combination of long distance scanners aboard the _Inferno Star_ and traffic control scanners on the ground. It was like watching professional speeder racing. With blasters.

However, Dekai was irked by the lack of marksmanship on display by the fighter pilots. He had half a mind to look up their military records to discover if they were blind. Behind him the Moff and his sycophants were still talking amongst themselves. Dekai half admired their willful bliss.

As he watched, the strange fighter began flying erratically. He ordered the communications officer to display the velocity data. Dekai wasn't exactly an expert on the flight characteristics of TIE fighters, but he knew that they were generally considered the fastest fighters in the galaxy. TIE fighters didn't have shields, life support, or hyperdrives. They were two engines, two laser cannons, a pair of hexagonal wings, and one pilot with a death wish. They were fast, deadly, and not much else. However this strange ship was making TIE fighters look positively slow. Despite being put together from disparate junkyard parts, as well as Dekai could determine from the long distance view of the sensors.

But the race didn't last much longer. An explosion erupted from behind the strange ship's cockpit, and, as the ship begun to flip and jerk upwards uncontrollably, a secondary explosion. The plastisteel canopy of the pilot's cockpit burst open and flew away. The pilot's flight chair flew outwards atop a column of flame.

The crazy amounts of speed at which the chase had occurred had unfortunate consequences for the pilot. The flight chair's escape vector took it inside the shockwaves created by the supersonic speed of the chase. The chair spun at g-forces the human body was not well prepared for.

There was a bit of static in the video feed as the TIE fighters turned away from the rapidly disintegrating unknown ship.

Dekai turned away from the sensor station. They were quickly approaching their landing pad and the pilots called for him to resume his seat. As he passed the Moff the older man halted his current conversation and turned towards the agent.

"I assume that unfortunate business is wrapped up?" Moff Sawn asked nonchalantly.

"Yes, the unknown ship has been obliterated," Dekai answered. "Not by your pilots though."

"What do you mean?" the Moff asked, his brows furrowing.

"Hmm...I'm not sure I can find an adjective to describe the inaccuracy of their fire, except to say that it hurt to watch. The ship blew up on its own after outrunning your TIE fighters for over a thousand kilometers."

"Outrun our TIE fighters? That's not possible," Moff Sawn shook his head.

Dekai took his seat. "I just saw it," he replied.

Soon the shuttle descended onto the landing pad, where a special detail of the bases' stormtroopers stood in formation. Dekai would have to put the mystery of the unknown ship into the back of his mind, for now. However, he kept the coordinates where the pilot was shot down in his memory.

After the formalities with the governor of the system and the base commander were dealt with, it was a small matter for Dekai to infiltrate the governor's secret data base. His security clearance granted him access to the military bases' security mainframes. After he installed state-of-the-art slicer programs created by Imperial Intelligence's top programmers from his datapad, and after a little bit of cross referencing, he had all the information he needed. No matter how hidden the files were supposed to be.

Dekai used his security clearance to bring up the planetary government's budget for the base. It was riddled with cost overruns and delays. The shield generator, the base's largest and most expensive system, had been replaced shortly after installation, although it should have been tested long before that point. The shield generator alone accounted for half the budget, but there were other instances. The landing pad had been paid for twice. Some of the equipment for the hangar had been ordered in duplicate.

Dekai used the base's computers to slice into the planet's spaceport records. He cross referenced the date the second shield generator was supposedly shipped, but never found it on the manifest. Some of the hangar equipment had arrived at the spaceport, but a delivery to the base was never contracted. In total over fifteen million credits had been wasted.

Next Dekai used his datapad and the computer systems to hack into the governor's accounts. The missing credits had not gone directly into Governor Sant's bank accounts. So he wasn't profiting from the scam, at least not directly. Which meant the conspiracy wasn't merely a profit generator. Dekai brought up research Imperial Intelligence had done for him before he had departed, a list of the Governor's known associates. Several of them owned contracting businesses, and most of those business had been involved in the construction of the base.

Dekai shook his head. Unfortunately his investigation would have to halt, for the moment. In order to cross reference the construction budget with these companies he would have to travel to their home systems. The extent of the conspiracy also meant he would be unable to confront the Governor himself. He certainly had the authority to do so, however he did not know how far the conspiracy went. For all he knew the Moff was in on it as well. Unless he came back with his own team, he couldn't be sure an attempted arrest of the Governor wouldn't result in him never being heard from again.

Dekai knew spies didn't have the longest life expectancy, but he would at least attempt to avoid being shoved out of an airlock.

Dekai wrapped up his investigation inside the base's security mainframe after backing up all of his data. He would send it all back to Imperial Center in an encrypted data packet directly from the holonet relay once he went about his official duty. In the meantime he felt a little bit of recreational investigation was in order.

He found a lieutenant in one of the corridors who informed him that Governor Sant, Moff Sawn, and the base commander were currently having a formal dinner in the commander's suite. Dekai sensed a perfect opportunity to annoy those who harbored the false assumption they outranked him.

He arrived in the commander's suite as they were halfway through the main course, gourmet roasted nerf from Alderaan. They were deep in conversation amongst themselves, and barely realized he had entered the room. When he approached the table the base commander actually raised his wine glass, as if Dekai was going to fill it.

"Ahem," Dekai cleared his throat. The commander glared at Dekai for a microsecond before realizing the Imperial agent was not a waiter.

Dekai shook his head, interrupting the commander's hurried apology. "I require a shuttle, and a retrieval team," Dekai asked politely. He couldn't order the commander to give him what he required, so Dekai was forced to play nice. If that didn't work he could resort to threats, if required to do so.

"Uh, what?" the Commander asked, confusion on his face.

"You are here to inspect the holonet relay, correct?" Moff Sawn interrupted. "You can use my shuttle. Why do you need a retrieval team?"

"I was planning on going to the relay tomorrow. For now I require a shuttle equipped with speeders and a recon team of stormtroopers. And possibly a medical droid," Dekai explained.

Moff Sawn realized Dekai's aim. "You are going to investigate the ship that intruded on the no fly zone? It was shot down. I consider it a closed matter."

"Well, I don't," Dekai responded. He was growing tired of beating around the bush with these provincial nobodies. "I require a shuttle and a recon team. Unless you have an impending operation I'm not aware of, give me everything I ask for. Otherwise I will be forced to complain to the Ubiqtorate."

At that the three men paled. The Ubiqtorate was the governing body overseeing Imperial Intelligence and their rival organization, the Imperial Security Bureau. They also had a part in overseeing the vast bureaucracy of the Empire's New Order, the Committee for the Preservation of the New Order, or COMPNOR, that Palpatine used to keep order in the galaxy. In reality, Dekai had no idea who all of the members of the Ubiqtorate were. There were only a few of them, and their identities were secret. Only the handful of Grand Moffs, Grand Admirals, Darth Vader, and the Emperor himself outranked them. Dekai strongly suspected that the Director of Imperial Intelligence and COMPNOR, Armand Isard, was one of them, but he didn't know for sure. Dekai was a highly ranked agent, but not that highly. But they didn't know that.

The base commander glanced at Governor Sant, who shrugged his shoulders. "Very well. I'll message one of my Lieutenants and make sure you get what you require," the Commander nodded.

"How hospitable of you," Dekai smirked sarcastically. "Enjoy your dinner."

oOoOo

Kel awoke to darkness. At first he didn't realize where he was. It looked like a forest. And then the events of the day flooded back to him and he realized he was hanging out of his pilot's chair, which was wedged into the branches of a biffur tree. It was evening, just slightly before sunset, but the night's darkness had already descended upon the forest.

Kel didn't know for sure where he was, except that he was far from civilization. He tried to move, and immediately grimaced in pain. He hung forward in his chair. If it weren't for his safety harness he would have been dumped out and onto the forest floor. If the tree hadn't caught him in its branches he would likely impacted the ground at high speed. The result of such a crash filled his head, and he counted himself lucky.

As it was he had immense pain in both shoulders. Bruising from whiplash. His neck hurt as well, but he could move both feet and arms, so he wasn't paralyzed. He had a terrible headache, and he was incredibly thirsty. He must have been hanging here, unconscious, for over ten hours.

He replayed the chase in his head, trying to come to terms with his own stupidity. He should have listened to his sister. He should have landed his ship as soon as he had been flagged by the patrol speeder. Unfortunately he didn't know the schematics for a time machine, so he had to think only of his current predicament. And how he was supposed to get out of it.

Kel hung about three and a half meters from the ground, so he thought he would survive the fall. Hopefully without breaking anything. He got his hands up onto the release catches and played out his next step in his imagination. He didn't want to inadvertently break his neck after falling on his head, especially after surviving a supersonic crash landing.

He released the catches and held his balance against gravity, teetering on the edge of his seat. He twisted his body around and slid out. His momentum spun him around and he hit the ground facing the tree and the pilot's chair embedded in its branches. His legs buckled underneath him and he fell backwards, landing on his back.

He now had horrible pains in his knees and ankles to go with the rest, but he didn't think anything was broken.

All around him was wild forest, and he had no idea which direction would take him to the nearest settlement. He picked a way that looked safest and began to stumble his way through the dark.

oOoOo

Dekai was mildly surprised by the team he had been assigned by the base commander. They were one of the systems elite stormtrooper squads, and they were equipped with state-of-the art gear. And, most importantly to Dekai, they conducted themselves with exemplary military efficiency, and asked very few unnecessary questions. Apparently his posturing in front of the Moff and the Governor had had an extraordinary effect.

They flew out in a Theta class Imperial shuttle, an older and smaller class than the Lambda that Dekai had arrived on planet in. But it suited Dekai tastes. Although smaller, the Theta was faster and sleeker. But it still had room in the cargo bay for two speeders and a small medical suite.

Dekai sat behind the co-pilot as they flew out over the forest, towards the coordinates that been reported by the tie fighters where the strange ship had gone down.

"Scanning for life signs," announced the co-pilot. Dekai watched the data consoles over his shoulder.

"There isn't much out here," the pilot spoke towards Dekai. "So we should find the pilot quickly."

"If they're still alive," Dekai pointed out.

Soon they arrived at the crash site, which was actually multiple spots where debris had fallen. It had been almost twelve hours since the fighter had gone down, so there were no telltale smoke columns. But Dekai could clearly see the gaping wounds in the forest canopy below.

"Anything on scanners?" Dekai asked.

The co-pilot adjusted his settings as they circled.

"I've got something," he said after a few seconds. "There," he pointed on the screen, and Dekai stared out of the cockpit in the corresponding direction. It was a section of forest a few hundred meters from the nearest debris from the crash.

"Bring us over there," Dekai ordered the pilot. He got out of his seat and went back towards the cargo bay. There a squad of scout troopers were running through equipment checks. "Commander," Dekai called.

A trooper with an orange shoulder pad stood and approached Dekai.

"We've located our target," Dekai informed him. "Remember, shoot to stun. I want him alive," he said, making sure there would be no mishaps.

"Understood," the trooper said simply. He said something into the communicator in his helmet and his troops stood and filed back towards the cargo door. One of the troopers hit the door release and glanced outside the back of the shuttle as the door came down. Another one of the scouts grabbed the rappel line and attached it to his armor. It was barely a minute before the cargo hold was empty and all six troopers were in the amongst the trees.

oOoOo

Kel could hear the shuttle hovering above trees. Any thought of trying to run through the forest and avoid capture existed in his mind for only the barest of seconds. He could barely walk, he was thirsty, hungry, and just generally in a bad mood.

He had been walking through the forest away from the crash area for a couple hours. He thought he could hear mysterious animals moving about, just out of sight. Or maybe it was his imagination. But, if he had to choose, he would rather be shot that eaten alive. When he heard the crashing sound of footsteps moving towards him he stumbled out from behind a tree and held up his hands. The scout troopers, their blasters aimed at him, spread out around Kel. They were shouting orders, but he tuned it all out.

"I surrender!" Kel shouted back. One of the troopers, with an orange patch on his shoulder, stepped forward.

"You're coming with us," the trooper stated.

"Obviously," Kel shook his head. "Did you bring food?" The instant the question left his mouth a blue wave of energy erupted from the trooper's blaster and Kel fell unconscious.

oOoOo

Kel awoke, briefly, inside of a bacta tank. He only had enough time to note his surroundings, a pristine and threadbare medical room, and the presence of a nurse, a human woman who was taking notes on her datapad. When she realized he was awake Kel felt a stinging sensation from his wrists. He had only enough time to realize, in a flash of anger and panic, that he was being sedated.

oOoOo

Kel awoke once again to find himself lying in a cell. The light was dim and he had only a hard bench to lay on and a refresher station for hygiene. He stood and stretched, feeling with pleasure that the muscles in his arms and legs had healed. He still had a headache, which, after a rumble from his stomach, he could reasonably attribute to his hunger.

He had no idea how long he sat alone in the cell. It felt like hours upon end. There was no variation in the sad, bland light that emanated through a grill in the ceiling. Air entered the cell through a ventilation panel at the floor, but it was dry air, and Kel couldn't bring himself to consider it a breeze.

As he sat, fear settled itself into his stomach. He had never been jailed before, but he knew this was no planetary security cell. The spartan nature of his room told him he was in exactly what he feared the most, an Imperial prison. Out in the forest he had thought the scout troopers were going to kill him, and he strongly would have preferred that they had. As it was, he had only his fear to keep him company. Fear of torture. Fear that his family would face reprisals. Fear of remaining in this horrible cell for the rest of his life.

Just when he thought he was about to go mad, his isolation was interrupted. The doors of his cell whooshed open and before he realized what was happening a stormtrooper marched through the door. Behind the stormtrooper was a lieutenant, wearing the tan colors of an officer.

"Stand," the lieutenant ordered. Kel did as we was told. If he had any hope of surviving this, he would have to leave his snark behind. The stormtrooper removed a pair of cuffs from his utility belt and clamped them on Kel, who held his arms outstretched without protest.

"Follow me," the officer ordered, and they led him out of the cell. They went down the corridor and past dozens of other cells before coming to a blast door. The lieutenant keyed his passcode into a nearby keypad and the blast door opened. They went a short way further down the hall before turning left.

This turn led them into what appeared to be an office space. There were two rows of cubicles going down a wide room, at the end of which was a raised floor which contained a large row of computer terminals. Other officers and a few plains clothes officials were milling about.

The lieutenant led Kel past the cubicles and turned right. At the wall was another security door, although it was less thick than the blast door they had already passed.

They led him through the door and into a dimly lit room. There was only a single table and a pair of chairs inside. They ordered Kel to sit in one of the chairs, fastening his cuffs onto a chain attached to the table.

"Don't move," the lieutenant ordered, before he left the room.

"Haha," Kel laughed, shaking his head. The thought hadn't entered his mind.

Kel sat in the chair for what seemed like hours, alone except for the stormtrooper in the corner. Not as long as his time in the prison cell, he was sure, but more than enough time to be unnerving. Handcuffed as he was to the table, he could not actually see the stormtrooper unless he twisted around in his chair. And he had no desire to do so. As it was he sat there, horrible thoughts of torture and dire consequences running through his head. He tried to ignore the presence of the soldier he could not see, like an invisible axe hovering above his head.

Eventually, he didn't know how long it was, the doors behind him whooshed open, and there was an instant of air exchange between the stuffy interrogation room and the larger area beyond.

A man walked into his peripheral vision and around to the chair on the opposite side of the table. He wore the uniform of a commander in the Imperial Navy, but without the rank icons. Without so much as a whisper or even a glance in his direction the anonymous officer pulled out the chair, seated himself, and placed a stack of flimsiplast documents onto the table top. Kel recognized pictures of himself on top of the stack.

The man sorted through the documents, mumbling aloud text from them as he did so. Kel knew it was a show meant to prove a point. This man knew everything about him and he wanted Kel to know it.

Finally the man looked up from his documents and stared at Kel for a long while, as if sizing him up. "So," he began. "Attempting to assassinate a Moff, quite a crime for someone such as yourself."

"Assassinate?" Kel repeated, his eyes going wide. "I had no idea the Moff was visiting."

"Right, you just happened to fly into a restricted air zone in a modified craft on an intercept course for the Moff's shuttle, on the very day and hour of his arrival."

"Yes, exactly..." frowned. He knew exactly how pathetic he sounded.

"Who are you connected with?" the man asked.

"Excuse me?" Kel asked.

"What terrorist organization are you with? The Hutts? Rebels? Separatists?"

"Uh...why would the Hutt's want the Moff dead?" Kel asked, genuinely curious.

"You tell me," he answered.

There was a pause, as if the Imperial was expecting an answer.

"Look, I had no idea the Moff was coming. I was just test-flying my ship," Kel tried to explain.

"Your ship?" the Imperial asked. "You built it?"

"Yes," Kel answered quickly. "I didn't have any scanners or communications equipment installed. I had no idea there was a shuttle coming in."

"Hmm..." the Imperial murmured to himself. "Kellen Pereth, age nineteen. Accepted a scholarship to the Eraidu Institute of Technology. Son of Thane Pereth, a local shipping magnate...and Asirya Par, a wanted criminal."

"Wait, my mother has a warrant?"

"You're going to pretend like you don't know?"

"I haven't seen my mother in years. She left when I was nine years old."

"I see," the Imperial said, although he didn't sound convinced. "You've have no previous records with local law enforcement or known contact with local undesirables. Other than your mother."

"I haven't had any contact with my mom. And I have absolutely no reason to attack the Moff," Kel tried to reason.

"Hmmm…" the officer began. "You blew up your industrial design lab in secondary school...perhaps an attempt to murder the instructor?"

"Uh...what?" Kel asked. He had completely forgotten about that incident.

"Was he a dissident?" the Imperial asked.

"Who?" Kel asked, completely confused. "The Moff?"

The Imperial agent laughed. Kel felt it that was a sinister sort of laugh, the kind that carry sinister intentions from a sinister man. "No, the instructor."

"I...uh, I don't think so," Kel answered.

"No, probably not," the agent said to himself. The agent leaned back in his chair looking over Kel once again, as if appraising him.

"Do you know what crimes you've been charged with?" he asked.

"Honestly, no idea," Kel said. "Probably high treason, and attempted murder. Evading law officers...flying an unregistered vehicle without a permit."

"And trespassing," the agent added.

"Trespassing?" Kel asked.

"The crash site was a wildlife preserve," the Imperial informed him.

"Oh," was all Kel could muster. He was trying very hard to keep his usual cynical attitude at bay, but it was difficult.

"Do you know what your sentencing is? Maybe they've told you already?" the agent asked.

"Sentencing?" Kel asked, panic rising. "Wait, there hasn't been a trial yet!"

"Governor Sant held your trial during his breakfast. He found you guilty halfway through his eggs and sentenced you to incineration in the base's trash burner after his toast."

Kel nearly fainted.

"But I've decided you have potential. Guilty or not, you could be useful to the Empire."

"Wait, who are you?" Kel asked. "You overrode the Governor?"

There was another uncomfortable pause as the question hung in the air. The agent leaned forward in his chair, thumbed to a couple of pages at the bottom of the stack and slid a flimsiplast documents across the table. Kel had just enough slack on his cuffs in order to reach them.

The first page was the record of a court hearing. There were witness statements and testimony, and holographed evidence of generic looking debris. The jury had found him guilty and the magistrate had deferred sentencing to the Imperial Commission.

"This is all fake?" Kel asked incredulously.

"Look at the second page," the agent nodded.

Kel did as he was told. At the top of this page was his mugshot, and he realized it was an altered version of his planetary identification card. At the very top left, in galactic basic, were the words "Expired- Death by Execution." After that detailed information was listed about the time and date of execution, as well as over a dozen witnesses. According to the time and date listed his execution had been carried out this morning. Or he thought it was this morning. Kel wasn't sure what day it was.

"I'm dead?" Kel asked.

"On record, yes," the agent confirmed.

Kel pushed the pages away. "Why? Why aren't I dead? Actually, instead of just on flimsiplast."

"That is a good question," the agent agreed. The calm yet intimidating demeanor he had displayed thus far disappeared, and it was replaced by cold seriousness. "What do you know about Imperial Intelligence?"

Kel paused before answering. He felt that if this conversation went poorly, he would be actually dead. And not just seemingly so.

"Nothing, I guess. They exist," Kel said cautiously.

"Yes, we do. I am an Imperial Intelligence agent, my name is Dekai, and I'm recruiting."

"Just Dekai?" Kel asked.

"It's enough for your purposes," Dekai nodded.

"Your recruiting me?" Kel frowned.

"Possibly. Really, you have two options," Dekai placed his hands upon the table. "One," he held up a finger, "You join Imperial Intelligence and become useful to the Empire. Or two, I hand you over to the locals and let them burn you to death and bomb your father's facilities from orbit."

Images of his father and sister, and many of the employees at their company, immediately leapt into his head. Kel didn't have a hard time imagining the Empire wouldn't hesitate. He had heard of atrocities committed by the Empire throughout the galaxy, nothing through the official holonet however. He had always believed that they had happened, but it all seemed very far away. Until now.

"That's not really much of a choice," Kel admitted out loud. "What possible use could I be to Imperial Intelligence though. I don't know how to do...spy stuff."

"You built this ship of yours from scrap, and it out flew two of the Empire's finest star fighters. Imperial Intelligence is a vast organization, we do a lot more than just...spy stuff. More than you see on the holodramas, anyway," Dekai said. "By the way, how was that ship of yours able to outrun those TIE fighters?"

Kel paused as he sorted out an answer. He was taken aback by the realization that this guy was serious. "TIE fighters are fast, but they are limited by the power supply. The twin ion engines, those have been around since the clone wars. It's not hard to build something faster once you reinforce the internals. And they don't have shields, hyperdrives, life support. They aren't that impressive."

"They are if you have budgets to think about, and manufacturing concerns. How many TIE fighters do you think are built every year?" Dekai asked. "Regardless, we are getting off topic. So what is it? Death, or a life of purpose?"

"I'll take life," Kel answered.

"Good man," Dekai responded. His serious look softened slightly. "You can uncuff him." The stormtrooper, whom Kel had almost forgotten about, approached and unlocked his cuffs.

"Now then, a few things to get straight," Dekai said, pushing his chair out from under himself and standing. "You may not be wearing cuffs anymore, but you would do well to think of yourself as a prisoner all the same, no matter what responsibilities or freedoms you earn. As far as your family and the public record are concerned, you are dead. Any attempts to contact your family is strongly discouraged. And I can't emphasize the word 'strongly' enough.

You will be processed, and during that time will be given an official Imperial identification code. You will use whatever name Imperial Intelligence gives you permission to use outside of your agency life. That includes signing documents when you purchase property or other assets."

"Follow me," Dekai gestured, gathering up the flimsiplast documents. They left the interrogation room and entered the office space beyond. Kel followed the agent across the rows of cubicles towards the far left wall. The last section of the wall was outlined in red, with a sign above a receptacle in the wall reading "incinerator." Dekai dumped the documents into the incinerator and led Kel down another hallway. They sidestepped a pair of stormtroopers on patrol and entered a turbolift. After that they went down two floors until Kel noticed a sign on the wall that pointed towards the medical wing of the base.

Dekai turned towards him and reached into a pocket in his uniform. "I have other matters to attend to this evening. Check in with the medical staff and have them give you an examination. A lieutenant will meet you when you're done and take you to some private quarters. You don't have leave to wander the base, so stay put. You will be brought food and afterwards you should try to get some sleep. We are leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I will have you brought fresh clothes. In the morning report to the hangar. We will meet there. Got it?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Kel mumbled.

"Remember, do as you're told and don't act out. If you behave yourself, most of your troubles will be behind you," Dekai assured him. He handed him a communicator. "I will contact you if I need to."

"Right," Kel answered. With that the imperial agent got back on the turbolift and left Kel standing alone in the corridor. He intended to behave.

oOoOo

Kel's medical went pretty quickly. He recognized the nurse from his stint of brief consciousness before they had sedated him. She easily pulled up his records from the planetary system, ran some blood tests, and scanned his eyes with a retinal device. Afterwards she filled out some forms on her datapad and then asked for his thumbprints.

"Congratulations, you are officially in the Imperial database," she said. Kel couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. He felt that sarcasm was generally discouraged on base. She handed him the datapad. "Your official identification number is LM-758-631."

True to Dekai's word, there was a lieutenant waiting for him as he left the medical bay. The lieutenant led him to his quarters, which was similar to a small hotel room. Once he was alone Kel glanced at the computer station located in the room, realizing it had a notice light blinking.

Kel woke the computer up to find Dekai had sent him a data packet. It was entitled "Kellen Pereth: Required Information for Your Review." The packet contained a series of information articles. They covered a range of topics, but Kel quickly realized they all pertained to the Empire's government and military structure. The was an article on military ranks; the sector fleet organization of the Imperial Starfleet; Imperial Intelligence's general history dating back to the agencies' days as Republic Intelligence; an overview of COMPNOR (Commission for the Preservation of the New Order), which was an important organization in the Empire's New Order that oversaw the vast bureaucracy of the Empire and enforced political purity; and finally an overview of the Imperial Security Bureau, an intelligence agency that rivalled Imperial Intelligence and fell under the political purview of the larger COMPNOR.

It appeared as if Dekai had given him homework. Seeing as he had nothing other to do in his empty room except worry about his family, he began to read.

oOoOo

The next morning Kel awoke to a beeping coming from the computer console. It was an alarm, signalling him to wake up. Kel really didn't want to wake up. He had dreamt of his garage. His experimental fighter was still there, uncrashed. His sister and father had taken turns warning him, telling him the Imperial's were coming to take him away, and then laughing. He ignored them, and then the dream would repeat itself, with both of them returning to repeat their warnings. He didn't know how many cycles his dream had taken. Once was too many.

He found the clothes they had given him and gladly changed out of his prisoner's outfit. The new clothes consisted of a fairly well tailored short sleeved shirt, a pair of black pants with matching belt, and a pair of black leather boots. As he was putting on the outfit he realized everything fit perfectly. Having clothes just show up like that...it was unnerving. On the table where the clothes had been folded lay a red identification arm band. The official Imperial logo was sewn into the fabric, with two I's in galactic basic underneath. He guessed this would keep him from being mistaken as a civilian.

He made his way to the hangar as he was told, stopping along the way to ask a passing officer for directions. He made it on time, although a shuttle was already being boarded. He found Dekai near the ramp, talking to a flight officer.

"You're on time, good," Dekai nodded.

"The base layout isn't too hard to figure out, once you know where you are," Kel agreed.

"Well, no need to keep it in your head. I doubt you will be seeing it again," Dekai said ominously. "Did you read the information I sent you?"

"Yeah, it was boring but I read it all," Kel told him.

"Good, I don't want you embarrassing me on the way to Imperial Center," Dekai shook his head. A pair of workers descended the shuttle's ramp, taking inspection equipment with them. Dekai's communicator beeped, and he got a message from the shuttle's pilot informing him she was ready to fly.

"Let's go," Dekai said. Kel followed him up the ramp and found a seat. Dekai stepped into the cockpit for a moment, informing him they were aboard, and then joined him. After just a few minutes the ramp behind them hissed shut and they were off.

The shuttle lifted off the hangar floor smoothly. Kel listened to the engines. They vibrated too much, but sounded like they were in good working order. He felt a momentary pull backwards in his seat, as they accelerated out of the hangar and shot upwards into the atmosphere.

"I'd go look out the viewport if I were you," Dekai told him.

"Excuse me?" Kel asked, confused.

"You won't be coming back. For a long time, if ever. It's not your home anymore. You don't have a home. But you better get a good look while you can."

Kel shoved away any outward display of emotion, but the enormity of what was happening finally hit him. He left his seat and approached the sensor station, which had a rectangular viewport in the hull nearby. The vast green forests and open plains descended rapidly below him. As they reached the upper atmosphere he could see the curvature of Jappa, his homeworld. He could make out the grayish hue of a distant city, probably the capital.

He backed away from the viewport before emotion could overtake him. He really didn't want to start crying in front Dekai, or the crew of the shuttle for that matter. He retook his seat and tried to think of something else.

"So, we are going to Coruscant?" Kel asked.

"Imperial Center, don't ever call it Coruscant," Dekai corrected. "And yes, that's our destination. We are going to catch a ride aboard the _Inferno Star_ , an Imperial Star Destroyer. She is heading coreward, and we will stay aboard until Commenor. It will take about a week, she's on patrol."

"What will we be doing on the way?" Kel asked.

"I have duties to attend to. You will be studying. Typical recruits to Imperial Intelligence have had experience in the Stormtrooper Corp., in the fleet, or in the government. You've got no experience of any kind," Dekai frowned.

"Ah," Kel nodded. "You were vague about what exactly I've been recruited to do for I.I. Is that still need to know or..."

"Imperial Intelligence is a large organization, and we have a large support staff. All of our covert missions must rely on our own assets, not Starfleet's. We have hangar facilities, and mechanical engineering shops. We work with military and civilian vessels, and the custom work varies depending on our needs. Your skills are perfect for it."

"Uh...you're recruiting me to be a mechanic?" Kel asked, perplexed.

"Not just a mechanic, but that's where you will start until you have proven yourself. I can't discuss much more with you until you've gone through entrance exams and political...training. I have more imagined for you than shop work, but that isn't up to me."

"Who is it up to?" Kel asked.

Dekai gave him a mysterious look. "It's up to you. Not to wash out. You don't want to wash out."

"What happens to wash outs?"

Dekai shook his head, "Nothing happens to them. Ever again."

Kel leaned back in his flight chair, trying to clear his mind. How he could have let himself get into such a mess, he had no idea. The only way to get himself out would be to play along and be a good little Imperial agent. Thinking of all the Imperial atrocities he had heard rumour of, he hoped he wouldn't have to sell his soul to do so.


	4. Chapter 3: To Imperial Center

An empty system just off the Perlemian Trade Route, uninhabited and unnamed except for its official designation BSS-RS: 1231-S512, was used as a reorientation stop by passing hyperspace traffic. Ships would drop out of hyperspace on the outer reaches of the system, pass by the red giant star and its bright orange gas giant child, and then re-enter hyperspace on the other side, changing their angle to begin their journey towards more important systems.

BSS-RS: 1231-S512 was slightly out of the way, and just off the beaten path, and the Imperials used the route to transport sensitive cargo, cargo that they preferred to avoid public scrutiny.

And so it was, as if appearing from nowhere, an Imperial Gozanti-class transport dropped out of hyperspace. Its sublight engines fired and accelerated while its sensors scanned the system for potential threats. Detecting nothing, the captain signalled to the incoming convoy that all was clear. A moment later another Gozanti transport, two Action IV bulk freighters, and a single Bayonet-class patrol cruiser dropped out of hyperspace.

As the convoy sped through the system the lead Gozanti transport released its four tie fighters from the ship's external docking adapters. The tie fighters sped ahead of the convoy, ensuring the way was clear.

Aboard the lead transport the bridge crew gazed upwards at the approaching gas giant, its swirling upper atmosphere shining with reflected light from the nearby star. And then suddenly their sensors lit up with a blazing crescendo of alerts.

"Ships detected!" the sensor chief yelled.

"Where are they coming in at?" the captain asked. He knew it was not impossible other ships could use this relatively unknown route, and he assumed the ships had just dropped out of hyperspace.

"They are already here! The gas giant!"

The sudden realization of the situation hit the captain. "Shields up, all hands in combat position!" His order came just in time as two explosions rocked the bridge. Sparks erupted as the electrical system overloaded, and the lights in the bridge cabin temporarily flickered.

"We've lost shields!"

"Fighters! Out of the atmosphere!" the sensor officer yelled.

As if like stinging insects flying out of a disturbed nest, dozens of starfighters of various makes and models were streaming out of the upper atmosphere of the planet, emerging from their hiding place in the clouds and intense radiation that had hidden them from the Imperials' scanners.

The captain grabbed the helmsman by the shoulders. "Get us out of here before they kill us!" The transport turned and sped away from the gas giant, its lone turbolaser battery firing back at the incoming fighters. The rest of the convoy was already peeling away as well, with the other Gozanti transport releasing it's four tie fighters. The transport under fire was helpless, its own fighters speeding back from their forward position far ahead of the convoy.

Multiple laser blasts from the fighters erupted against the transport's hull, breaching it in several places. An ion blast from a modified M3-A Scyk fighter, a ship commonly seen in Hutt Space which had the appearance of a predatory bird, struck the unshielded bridge, rendering the transport completely helpless.

Out of the atmosphere of the gas giant streaked another wave of over a dozen fighters of various types. They ignored the lifeless transport and sped towards the rest of the convoy.

The eight Imperial tie fighters, the four released by the lead transport and the other four incoming from the convoy, bravely engaged the enemy, although they were badly outnumbered.

The tie fighters were much faster than the enemy fighters, and they engaged them from ahead and the rear, forcing a few to break off and cover their backsides. The rear tie fighters got off a few desperate shots at their foes before they took fire from multiple directions. Shieldless, the rear four tie fighters exploded in glorious fireballs of ionized gas and debris.

The lead tie fighters split into two groups, firing on the incoming fighters from above and below. Their crossfire destroyed a Cloakshape fighter and a barely functioning Y-wing before they were blown out of space by withering blasts of laser fire.

As the enemy ships sped forward the Bayonet cruiser reversed thrust and rotated perpendicular to the fleeing convoy, placing itself between the oncoming squadrons of fighters and the other Imperial ships. Its port bank of turbolasers opened up, forcing the squadrons to break apart into sharp angles away from the cruiser. Two more pirate fighters were unable to evade the fire, and exploded into fiery balls of metal shrapnel.

Two of the eight tie fighters flying to intercept the pirates exploded before they could return fire, with one other taking a glancing blow of off one of its hexagonal radiator wings. The remaining five tie fighters scored shots on the first wave of pirates, which were streaking at top speed towards the convoy, however the shielded fighters shrugged off the assault.

The first wave of fighters used their break-away vectors to speed around the Bayonet cruiser, ignoring it while continuing to fly towards the rest of the convoy. The second wave of pirates forced the remaining tie fighters to veer away under a barrage of fire. They fled into open space in a futile attempt to draw the enemy away.

The Bayonet cruiser rotated, keeping the first wave of pirates in its line of sight and succeeding in annihilating one more enemy in a hail of turbolaser fire.

The cruiser allowed its momentum to spin itself around 180 degrees before increasing the thrust of its main engines, allowing it to accelerate towards back towards the convoy. The enemy ships had flown around it like water around a stone. They juked and jived, the majority of them avoiding the flailing turbolaser blasts streaming from the Imperial ship.

However, the Bayonet cruiser had unknowingly turned its back to a new threat. Out of the upper atmosphere and swirling gasses of the giant planet emerged a Clone Wars era Venator-class Star Destroyer, like an arrow shooting out from a bank of fog.

The cruiser detected the incoming ship and desperately attempted to maneuver back around in order to face the icon from a bygone era. But it was too late.

The Venator fired its forward turbolaser batteries even as its engines pushed it away from the gas planet at top speed. The blasts of energy impacted against the side of the Bayonet cruiser, explosions of bright white erupting around the Imperial ship.

The Bayonet cruiser fired in return, albeit with only one turbolaser in position. The single shot was effortlessly shrugged off by the Venator's shields, and was returned by another volley. The Bayonet cruiser's shields gave way, and pieces of hull and debris erupted into space. The ship's inertia continued to spin the hull around, putting another turbolaser battery into position to return fire. One desperate shot fired back at the Venator, but missed wide. A third volley struck the cruiser and reduced it to slag.

Not all of the escaping convoy was able to reach their escape vector. The enemy fighters destroyed the other Gozanti cruiser with a volley of missiles and disabled one of the two Action IV transports with repeated blasts of their ion cannons. The ship could only signal their surrender, mere thousands of kilometers from escaping, and prepare to be boarded.

oOoOo

Just as Dekai had told him, their stay aboard the _Inferno Star_ lasted a little over two weeks. At first Kel questioned why they just didn't take a smaller ship all the way to Imperial Center. Aboard a ship equipped with a standard hyperdrive the journey would've only taken a few days. But after awhile Kel realized the answer to his question. Agent Dekai was not a recruiter, per se. He couldn't show up at Imperial Intelligence headquarters with some teenager in tow and expect his superiors to agree that Kel was worthy Imperial secret service material.

And so Dekai gave Kel an improvised education on their stay aboard the massive Imperial destroyer. They stayed in separate sections of the ship, with Kel staying in a small closet of a room intended for guests. He ate in the one of the Star Destroyer's galleys, along with the rest of the crew. The reading list for him consisted of history lessons filled with Imperial propaganda, the official version of events as every good Imperial citizen learned them. For example, he learned the Trade Federation, and other corporate conglomerates like them, were evil corporations run by greedy "aliens" who conspired with the Jedi, a sect of religious fanatics, to tip the galaxy into the fires of the Clone Wars. He also became well versed in the official tenets of the Imperial New Order, a set of beliefs that the Emperor himself held dear and claimed freed the galaxy from the corruption and decay of the Old Republic. Kel didn't believe a word of it, but he played along.

Along with the political propaganda, Kel also had to review technical manuals and take several engineering exams. It was, as he learned from speaking to a maintenance officer onboard the Star Destroyer, the equivalent to two years at a major university. Kel's innate talent toward engineering, and all the time spent in his father's shops, prepared him well. He knew most of what were in the tests already, everything from hypermatter and quantum physics to electrical engineering, and everything he didn't know he soon learned from the resources stored in the _Inferno Star's_ databank archives. He also managed to talk to the aforementioned maintenance chief into allowing him to take a tour of the engineering section of the ship. The hypermatter reactor cores alone were bigger than most bulk freighters by themselves, and the intricacy and complexity of the ships many systems astounded him.

But, after nearly two weeks aboard the _Inferno Star_ and a stopover on the major coreworld of Commenor, they arrived at the center of the Imperial controlled galaxy, named appropriately enough, Imperial Center. Or as Kel still thought of it privately, Coruscant.

oOoOo

The name Coruscant came from the glittering Corusca gem and Kel felt that it was appropriate. The planet-wide city glittered with light, both from the uncountable number of skyscrapers and traffic lanes, to the hundreds of millions of starships moving through the atmosphere like a cloud of illuminated insects.

Kel leaned forward in his seat in the passenger section of the light transport, and peered through the viewport. Agent Dekai was seated next to him, answering messages on his datapad. They were travelling with the civilians now, having boarded after a transfer on one of the orbital space stations above Imperial Center.

They descended through the atmosphere, skimming past enormous skyhooks, high altitude space stations owned by large corporations as private retreats, or in a few cases, some of the wealthiest individuals in the galaxy.

The transport smoothly transitioned into a large lane of sky traffic, one of the central lanes that ran through Imperial Center's most important districts. Off in the distance he could see the gleaming dome of the massive Imperial Senate building, once the home to the Old Republic's massive bureaucracy.

As they flew towards the massive Senate complex and the horizon turned towards them another, much larger, and much more intimidating structure loomed. A large four-cornered pyramidal structure with enormous spires at each corner, it seemed to burst out of the surrounding city-scape like a newly risen volcano.

"Is that the Imperial Palace?" Kel asked, glancing over at Dekai.

Dekai followed Kel's gaze out the view port. "Yes, impressive isn't it."

"I had no idea it was that big," Kel shook his head.

"It's foundations run all the way to the planets ground level. Most of the sub-levels are secret, even from someone like me," Dekai added.

"Is that where we are headed?" Kel asked.

"No," Dekai shook his head, beginning to turn back to his datapad. "Imperial Intelligence Headquarters isn't too far from the Palace. It sits on the city quadrant just to the north of it. In the Palace's shadow after high noon."

Indeed, as the transport neared the Palace, and as the enormous structure seemed to eat up more and more the skyline, Kel realized they would fly just past it. The enormous size of the buildings on this planet made it hard for him to judge distance. Not that he was great at judging such things under normal circumstances.

Kel noticed that the city blocks themselves were huge spires towering over the surface of the planet. He leaned towards his viewport and peered downwards and saw a dark abyss below them, with lower altitude lanes of traffic and causeways connecting the the districts across the skylane.

As they flew past one of the corner spires of the Imperial Palace he noticed that the cylindrical spire structures at the corners served as enormous hangar complexes. Numerous freighters twice the size of their transport were docking inside cavernous hangars that made them seem tiny. Their transport vibrated as the distant howl of a flight of tie fighters, flying on patrol above them, washed over. If Kel hadn't felt as if he were in the heart of the Empire before, he felt it now.

As they flew into the shadow of the Palace their transport began dropping its altitude, falling out of the stream of traffic and downwards towards a landing complex. Distracted by the incredible display of Imperial power all around him, Kel hadn't realized they were approaching their destination.

Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, compared to the Palace, seemed inconspicuous. Built into the side of its city block, the building had the appearance of a bunker. The side of the building consisted of thick columns of permacrete which started just below the top level causeways and descended down towards the abyss. A large landing pad stretched outward from the Headquarters.

Their transport slowly sat down on one quadrant of the landing pad. Agent Dekai and Kel disembarked and followed the motions of guide droids away from other landing zones, lest they be squashed underneath other transports. The landing pad was noisy, and it would have drowned out any attempt at communication between Kel and his sponsor.

At the center of the landing pad stood a cylindrical control tower. Kel took note of the pair of quad cannon turbolasers sitting atop the roof. At the bottom of the tower lay a narrow building consisting of two rows of permacrete columns and a thick, curved roof. Lines of people, mostly humans with a spattering of various alien species, approached the spaces between various columns along the building where security checkpoints were set up.

Jappa was not the most culturally diverse world, he had to admit, but Kel was a little surprised how little diversity there was in all the people surrounding him in line. He had read about the New Order's preferred belief the superiority of humans, but he hadn't seen the effects of it before today. He had little trouble believing most aliens had little reason to be paying Imperial Intelligence a visit.

Once they reached the front of the line Dekai showed his identification to the security personnel, a pair of Imperial stormtroopers and a Lieutenant wearing an Imperial Center police uniform. The Lieutenant waved Dekai through the columns and but held up his hand to stop Kel from following.

"Excuse me, identification please," the Lieutenant demanded. Kel fumbled for the mini datapad that held all of the information that had been given to him back on the military base on Jappa. He had never been through a high security checkpoint like this before.

"Ahem," Dekai cleared his throat. "I'm a senior agent. He's with me."

"It will only take a moment," the Lieutenant stubbornly refused. He held out his hand for Kel's datapad.

"I'm a VERY senior agent. And I can find out where you live." Dekai delivered the threat casually, as if he made them every day.

"Right," the Lieutenant paled. "We don't need to see his identification," he said, glancing at the two stormtroopers. "Move along."

As Kel and Dekai followed the pathway towards the entrance to main structure Kel had to clear his throat loudly to get the Imperial Agent's attention.

"I thought my identification data was in order?" he asked.

"Oh it is," Dekai smirked. "I don't use the public entrance often. I enjoy messing with the security officers. Keeps them on their toes."

"Right," Kel shook his head.

Dekai and Kel walked through the huge open doorway that marked the entrance into the headquarters of Imperial Intelligence. Two open heavy blast doors hovered above the doorway that was large enough for a speeder transport to move through. A pair of Stormtroopers stood on guard on either end.

On the other side of the doorway lay a huge open lobby. The floors, walls, and columns were furnished with polished Geonosian granite. In the center of the huge room the Imperial logo was inlaid in a black obsidian. Kel glanced up towards the ceiling. The lobby stretched upwards more than ten stories, and he could see offices, cafes, meeting rooms, and a few the entrances to conference rooms on each level. Everywhere there were droids and officers going to and fro. He had no idea the organization of it all, and it seemed incredibly overwhelming.

"Welcome to Imperial Intelligence," Dekai gestured. The Imperial Agent led Kel through the lobby, weaving through the crowd. Kel tripped and heard a digital squawk as he stepped on a scurrying mouse droid. "Watch out for those," Dekai warned. "Some of them self destruct."

At the other end of the lobby on the ground floor lay a huge desk, with multiple lines of aliens and humans waiting for their turn with a secretary. Dekai skipped the lines and went directly to the primary secretary, a high ranking public affairs officer. She was flanked by a protocol droid and a stormtrooper.

Dekai moved purposely up to the desk and cleared his throat.

"Identification," the officer demanded. Dekai handed her his datapad.

"Special Agent Dekai. And my guest, Kellen Pereth. He needs processing in order to begin the recruitment regimen."

"Ah, agent Dekai. A new recruit?" she eyed Kel.

"Yes, something like that," Dekai nodded.

"Well then, everything seems in order. Take him to the registrar and they will take over from there." She motioned them ahead and together the pair moved through the security terminal.

Behind the desk were a multitude of passageways, and Dekai led him through the largest. These corridors were much less crowded.

"I read through everything you gave me," Kel said. "But there was nothing about what would be required for recruitment. What exactly am I getting myself into?"

Dekai turned left before responding. "The recruitment process varies. There are tests, background checks, some training. I can't forewarn you about what it might entail."

The went down a short flight of steps before arriving at the entrance to an office. Above the double security doors on the wall, inlaid in obsidian in galactic basic, was "Imperial Intelligence Registrar and General Counsel."

"Go inside, show them your datapad and identify yourself, tell them why you are here," Dekai said. "My time babysitting is over. From here on out you must survive on your own wits. But it will be known that I brought you in. So don't embarrass me."

"I'll do my best," Kel frowned.

"Good. I have matters of actual importance to deal with. Don't get yourself killed."

oOoOo

After dropping off Kel and stopping at the refresher Agent Dekai soon arrived at his normal offices. Located in the Operations Division within Imperial Intelligence, his office was spacious but not obstinate. A window offered a decent view of the skyline behind his desk, he had a small kitchenette, a secured computer terminal complete with a holoprojector for presentations, and a very comfortable divan that he had slept on more often that he cared to admit. Honestly, he almost had nearly as much space in his office as he did in his apartment a few city blocks away. But at least his office wasn't costing him an arm and a leg to sit empty most of the time.

Dekai checked his mail, filtering through the unimportant memos quickly. After passing through the public entrance to Imperial Intelligence and leaving Kel with the recruiters he couldn't help but think back to his own beginning at the agency. It had been back at the end of the Clone Wars, and Imperial Intelligence had just been transformed from the old Republic Intelligence organization. Those had been different days.

Shaking the nostalgia he finally got to his important messages. The Analysis Division had finished analyzing the information requested from his report on Moff Sawn and Governor Sant from Jappa before he had arrived back on Imperial Center, while he had still been aboard the _Inferno Star._ He had forwarded the information to an analyst whom he held in the highest regard, despite the reservations of others within Imperial Intelligence. He could read the summary from his terminal but he preferred to speak with the analyst in person.

Dekai brewed a double strength cup of caf from his kitchenette and took the mug with him. Imperial Intelligence headquarters was a little more relaxed than the atmosphere aboard an Imperial starship or military facility, but the corridors still featured an assortment of officials going to and fro in various states of seriousness or nervousness. Sometimes he imagined what this for that person was doing and thinking about. Was the one looking nervous by the turbolift getting bad assessments? And the one with an evil glint in her eye, was she plotting against her superiors?

He stopped in front of one of the lifts and stood between a protocol droid and an Intelligence officer wearing blue commando gear. The lift opened and the three of them stepped inside.

"Analysis level," Dekai told the droid, who was nearest to the command pad.

"The same," the commando nodded. Dekai glanced over at him.

"Of course, sirs," the droid answered politely. The droid also hit the button for one of the upper administration levels.

After his glance over Dekai realized the commando was wearing an I.S.B armband. A visitor from Imperial Intelligence's rival spy agency.

"I think you're in the wrong building," Dekai mentioned in a fake polite voice.

"Excuse me?" the man answered, his accent held with the proper amount of Core world dignity.

"This is Imperial Intelligence," Dekai said. "You must've gotten lost."

"Hmm," the commando looked Dekai over. He sneered a bit when he noticed Dekai sipping from his mug. "I'm not lost, but don't worry, I would never mistake this place for a true intelligence agency. We would never allow OUR corridors to get so shabby."

"Ah, well," Dekai shrugged. "We prefer to put our budget into the field. Efficiency and all that."

The commando looked away from him, hiding any hint of anger. Dekai was sure that the man's armor wasn't for show. Dekai had combat training, of course, but he would probably get a thrashing if it came to a fight. This I.S.B thick head looked like he had just got out of the Stormtrooper corps. Lots of muscle and perfect posture from standing at attention all the time.

The doors to the lift opened and the commando was the first through the door. Dekai let him exit and turn down the corridor before leaving the lift. He watched where the man headed.

Unlike the lower levels and the public entrance, this floor of Imperial Intelligence was much more utilitarian. The floors were carpeted instead of granite, and transparisteel windows separated the various departments with the Analysis Division.

The commando was heading all the way down the corridor to Dekai's left and towards a staircase that led to the Executive Director's offices. The Executive Director was the third highest ranking official in all of Imperial Intelligence, which meant there was some kind of high level joint operation brewing. Something big must've happened.

Dekai put these ponderings out of his head for the moment and went the opposite direction down the corridor, past a pair of attendants discussing podracing circuits.

The Analysis Division was the second biggest division within Imperial Intelligence, behind Operations. Operations consisted of field agents, like himself, and all of their operatives and throughout the galaxy. They also had at their command a division of commandos, culled from the Stormtrooper Corp, along with mercenaries and bounty hunters. Imperial Intelligence wanted the best, and they held little regard for background. Steps were taken to ensure loyalty of course, but political purity was secondary. This view did not hold with the Imperial Security Bureau, but then, Dekai felt SOMEONE had to be professional about things, in the end.

Besides sifting through the information gathered by field agents Analysis also developed gear for covert missions, such as miniature shield generators, grenades disguised as, well, anything. If something could hold a bomb, Imperial Intelligence had probably tried stuffing a bomb in it. They were the gadgets people. Analysis had also once had a section devoted to computer hacking, slicing, and other types of information gathered through digital systems throughout the galaxy. But the job had become so complex and the information so valuable it had been spun off into its own division, CompLink. The final section of Analysis was the Tech Section, where Dekai had sent Kel.

The Tech section was more proper engineering than gadgetry. They designed specialized ships for the agency and even undertook top secret research projects for other parts of the Empire, such as the Imperial Star Fleet, that were too sensitive to entrust to civilians.

There were a couple other divisions. Sector Plexus was actually in a separate facility hidden many levels below the surface levels of the city. Sector Plexus consisted of a massive data center containing the Empire's most valuable Plexus had its own security personnel, separate from the ordinary channels to ensure no information was leaked.

The last division was the Inquisitorius. Most didn't know it even existed. Dekai wished he was one of the most.

Finally Dekai arrived at his destination, a large circular room. The room was dark, with almost no overhead lighting. Instead it was light by the blue glow of dozens of holoprojectors and computer terminals. The terminals were arranged in stations through the room and each one had enough space for three individuals to work side by side.

As he walked through the room he glanced at the operatives. Almost all of them were busy examining or writing up reports. A small group of technicians surrounded one of the holoprojectors and Dekai overheard them discussing new protocols with a supervisor. He passed them and arrived at a terminal on the far side of the room. Within it was one human operative and a non-human. An Elomin to be exact.

"Si Nommon," Dekai greeted from behind. There was a moment's hesitation as she tore her mind away from her computer terminal.

"Ah, Agent Dekai," she answered with the barest hint of a smile. Aliens were rare within the Imperial bureaucracy, it was true, even within Imperial Intelligence. But those who managed to get past the racism and prejudice were those that excelled. And, in his opinion, Si Nommon was the best analyst in the entire agency.

An Elomin, she resembled the slightly more common Zabrak species in form. A humanoid body, orange hued skin, and a crown of horns upon her head. But her face was narrower and she was a little shorter than most Zabrak. And while the Zabrak species have noses basically identical to that of a human, an Elomin's nose was sunken, almost resembling that of a skull.

"I assume you've just arrive back on Imperial Center," she said.

"That's right," Dekai confirmed. He place his caf mug on the desk in front of the empty station at the computer terminal. "I was hoping to discuss the research you've uncovered based on my report from Jappa and the Lantillies sector."

"Yes, you specifically requested that I deal with it," she nodded. She reset her terminal and brought up the report she had filed based on Dekai field work. A series of boxes appeared on the screen, including an orbital image of Jappa, a profile image of Governor Sant, and a series of financial statements.

"The corporations you outlined have all directly profited from the construction of the base, and their connections to the Governor have been confirmed. Several of the C.E.O's, and even the President of Lantillian, the largest shipbuilder in the sector, have attended political fundraisers and dinners with the Governor," she said.

"That's the kind of typical corruption you would expect," Dekai said. "The Governor's friends making. But the irregularities really go too far with the discrepancies in the base's construction. I think I estimated over fifteen million credits charged to the Empire."

"The loss is actually much greater, and it comes from an even more troubling source," Si Nommon frowned.

"What's that?" Dekai asked.

She motioned at the financial statements. "Not only have these companies profited from the base construction, they have also hurt their competition and cost the Empire even more credits, 37.5 million estimated. I cross referenced their rivals for a comparison over the last few years, going back to before the base was even considered."

"What did you find?" Dekai asked.

"Lost shipments, stolen goods, one missing convoy. All them carrying Imperial shipments, or goods meant for the Empire aboard commercial vessels. All throughout the sector."

"Piracy?" Dekai frowned. "If its happening all over the sector that means the Moff could be involved."

"I am almost sure that he is, although I lack sufficient evidence to state it as fact," Nommon agreed. "He also has friends amongst private industry. And he also has access to the shipping routes the Empire uses throughout the sector. Not all of the routes, but many of them would be accessible through his rank. And he was once a captain in the Republic Navy during the Clone Wars. He would have had personal knowledge of many of these routes. "

"So we have a Moff feeding intelligence to pirates, who are hitting the ships of companies his friends don't like," Dekai went through it aloud.

"And there is circumstantial evidence they have been covering it up. None of the attacks on civilian ships have been reported to the Imperial Navy," she added.

"Well," Dekai said, standing back from the computer terminal. "I think this enough to report to my superiors. Well done."

"The documentation is in the report. There are several avenues that warrant follow up, including whether any elements of Starfleet have been participating in the conspiracy. It is also difficult to contribute individual raids to the Moff or the Governor, but there have been over a dozen each year for the past three years, beginning not long after Moff Sawn was promoted. Enough charges are verifiable for multiple death penalties," she said.

"Hmmph, I've always wanted to kill a Moff," Dekai shrugged.

Si Nommon missed his sarcasm. Her face struggled between apprehension and disbelief.

"Well, it would be a new personal best. A Moff. Maybe a Grand Admiral next time," he said shook his head, turning to leave. He was glad he had powerful friends of his own. "Good work Nommon, you're the best."

"Please, reiterate your appreciation to your superiors," she spoke to herself.


	5. Chapter 4: Fight Test

Kel wasn't in the Registrar offices for long. He informed the secretary droid at the desk who he was and why he was there. It gave him a passcode keycard, which he used to go through a security door and into a larger lounge area beyond.

It was a strange room, Kel had to admit, and reminded him a little bit of his father's company headquarters on Jappa. Office desks were arranged around the edge of the room, at center of which were a number of comfortable chairs and couches. His eyes moved across the room. At the desks officers were interviewing people seated opposite of them, or typing at their computer terminals.

"Can I help you?" came a voice. Kel turned and saw a man in a prim military uniform approaching him.

"Yeah, I'm here for recruitment," Kel answered. The man looked him up and down and took his datapad.

"Follow me," he said. Kel did so and was led to a desk. "Khol, got another one for you."

Khol, a woman with blonde hair wound in a bun underneath an Imperial officer's cap, looked up from her terminal and looked Kel over. The other officer left the two of them and returned to his other duties.

"Aren't you kind of young?" she asked.

"I suppose? How old should I be?" Kel answered.

"Hmm," was all she responded with. "Have a seat." Kel sat and tried not to appear nervous.

She took Kel's data pad and transmitted the information to her terminal. She spent a few minutes looking it over.

"You're from Jappa, never heard of it," she said. Kel declined an answer.

"So, why are you here?"

"I'm here for recruitment?" Kel said, frowning uneasily.

"No, why are you seeking employment with Imperial Intelligence? Why do you feel that your services could be of use to the Empire's premiere Intelligence service?"

Kel thought for a moment. He considered coming up with an answer about how he had always wanted to serve the Empire, and that he was here out of some sense of patriotism. But he didn't know what information Dekai had given them about the circumstances of his arrival on Imperial Center. So he went with the truth. More or less.

"I'm here because I was given a choice. Either serve the Empire or put my fate in the hands of a man who couldn't care less. I was told I have talents that could be put to good use. And so I'm here," Kel said.

"So you were brought here against your will?" she answered back.

"I chose to be brought. It wasn't a hard choice, I have to be honest," Kel said. "A few weeks ago I couldn't have imagined anything like this happening to me. But I'm here now, and I'm going to try and make the best of it."  
"That is decidedly mature of you," Khol said. She made a few notes in her terminal. "And what talents were you told that you had? What, 'good use,' as you put it, do you think you can be? Why do you think Imperial Intelligence would have any use for a know nothing little nerf from some tiny little outer rim world."

"Jappa is in the mid rim," Kel corrected her. He regretted it when her blue eyes narrowed.

"I don't care where it is. Answer the question."

"My father owns a shipping business. I've been hanging around starships and garages all of my life. I'm a genius when it comes to starship engineering."

"A genius?" she frowned skeptically.

"The reason I'm here, I'm sure it's in my file, is that I built a ship out of scrap and spare parts that outran two Imperial tie fighters. It was just a test run, I shouldn't have been in the air. I crashed and they arrested me for attempting to murder the Governor. I wasn't doing any such thing...but Dekai sprung me out of a cell."

"This Dekai…" Khol began.

"Isn't he an Agent here?" Kel asked.

She read something on her screen, tilted away from Kel. "Yes...you are aware that this is a large agency. I don't know literally everyone that works here." She looked at him like he was some kind of dim yokel.

It seemed to Kel that the interview wasn't going well. She began to type into her terminal without glancing at him.

"Well, anyway. He told me that my skills with ships, engineering, that it could be useful to Imperial Intelligence," Kel reiterated.

"That remains to be seen," she murmured quietly, but loud enough for Kel to hear. She motioned to his datapad, which buzzed as she transmitted new data to it. "Fill out those forms, and the questionnaires. Don't try to give the best answers, just give the answers that come to mind. And be honest. The moment you walked in here you became Imperial property. If you really are a fit, it will become self-evident."

With that she turned back to her terminal. She hadn't given him any leave to move, so he started with the forms at her desk. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't be wading through bureaucracy for the rest of his life. If that was what was coming to him, he would have preferred to have died back in the forests of Jappa.

oOoOoOo

Agent Dekai received a call through his comlink a few hours after his meeting with Si Nommon. His boss, the Chief Supervisor of the Renik Section of the Operations Division, Imperial Intelligence's counter espionage unit, needed him to sit in on a briefing of the Executive Director of Imperial Intelligence. The man that most directly ran the place, in effect.

Dekai went back to his office and changed out of his more casual clothes and into an Imperial Intelligence officer's proper uniform. The uniform was extremely similar to that of an officer in the Imperial Navy, but instead of tan or dark brown it was white. But it lacked the color coded rank insignia found on actual military uniforms.

After getting dressed he left his office and navigated through the marble corridors of the facility until he arrived at a turbolift that ran up to the upper floors. The turbolift took him upwards several dozen stories until her arrived at his destination. This floor, home to the Executive Director's office, as well as the offices of several other high ranking officers, contrasted sharply with the floors below. The marble was gone, replaced by soft blue carpeting. The corridor was lit by wide windows offering a generous view of the Imperial Center skyline.

Dekai walked down the hall until he arrived in the briefing room. It was a large dimly lit room with a large conference table at the center and a holoprojector at one end. A few other agents were already present, include his boss.

"Agent Dekai," Chief Supervisor Telranni Calder greeted him. Dekai noticed a datapad propped up in front of him, and he recognized that Si Nommon's report was opened on it.

"Chief," Dekai nodded. He sat across from him. "I assume you've read through the findings."

"Yes, I believe it's the biggest work you've been involved with," the Chief smiled grimly.

"Is that what all this is about? I know it involves a Moff and one of his Governors, but it's a minor system of a minor sector," Dekai asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing involving a Moff is minor. But that isn't what this is about, at least not directly. However, your findings are related so I brought you in."

After a few minutes the rest of the conference room began to fill up, and Dekai realized that this was indeed an important briefing. Inside the room sat the Chief Supervisors of several other sections of the Operations Division, several chiefs from the Tech Division, and several prominent field agents.

Dekai went on high alert when one agent, known to almost every employee of Imperial Intelligence, entered the room. Ysanne Isard.

Ysanne was the daughter of the Director of Imperial Intelligence himself, Armand Isard. If her name didn't set her apart, her appearance did. Tall, athletic, and attractive, she had brown hair with stark white bangs. And her eyes were different colors, one icy blue and the other fiery red.

Only twenty standard years old and already an extremely successful and influential field agent, Ysanne Isard had flown through the junior ranks of the agency. If anyone believed her success was due to her father's name they would be disavowed of that notion immediately upon meeting her. She was dangerously cunning, ruthless even, and she got results in the field. Although her actual rank was equal to Agent Dekai's, her opinion held enormous weight in every operation she participated in.

Dekai knew her by reputation, but he had never met her before. She took a seat near the front of the table.

Soon thereafter the Executive Director of Imperial Intelligence entered the room. He was flanked by a secretary and a person whom Agent Dekai did not know, but had met. Just hours ago.

The I.S.B commando glanced around the room, his eyes hesitating for a moment when he noticed Agent Dekai. Dekai stared right back, careful to keep his expression neutral and impassive. The commando seated himself down the table, between Ysanne Isard and a Chief Supervisor from Analysis. The Executive Director remained standing at the end of the table, near the holoprojector.

The E.D cleared his throat and all the side chatter came to an end inside the room. "All of you have been cleared to attend this briefing. And you should all consider this top secret. Nothing discussed in this room leaves, unless it is cleared by my office." Dekai wondered inwardly if their I.S.B guest felt the same compunction to keep quiet that the rest of them were obliged to follow.

The holoprojector came to life and the lights in the room went dark. A system appeared overhead, not one that Dekai recognized.

"Less than a week ago pirates attacked an Imperial convoy travelling through system BSS-RS: 1231-S512," he said. "This system is located in the Lantillies sector." Dekai immediately realized the part he had to play in this briefing. "The convoy was carrying top-secret equipment meant for the Death Star project. A few ships escaped and reported the attack."

"What kind of equipment was it?" a question came from one of the Tech Division supervisors. Dekai knew generally about the Death Star project, some kind of large, mobile, battle moon, although he wasn't cleared to know intricate details. He inwardly thought, _does it matter what kind of equipment it was._

"Some kind of power generation equipment. The details are top secret, but it was state of the art. Irreplaceable," the E.D answered.

"Why was the convoy carrying that kind of equipment so lightly guarded?" Ysanne asked with a frown.

"It was thought that a small convoy would avoid attention. And given the top secret nature of the project, the fewer eyes on it the better," the I.S.B commando answered. "Security for this is being handled by the fleet. So that was their decision."

"I'm sorry, I failed to introduce our guest," the E.D said after a momentary pause. He glanced around the room at the various intelligence officers. Some were not adept at hiding their distrust. "This is Agent Lorne Krom, from the Imperial Security Bureau."

"Besides the high value placed upon the the lost equipment, the nature of the raid was particularly disturbing," Krom added.

"Yes," the E.D agreed. "The route the convoy used is not one that is frequented by civilian traffic often. It isn't a secret route, per se, but it is one of many the navy uses to move sensitive cargo."

"Not one that ought to be a prime location for pirates," a chief supervisor from Analysis said. "Are we facing a breach of security?" she asked.

"Unkown at this time," the E.D answered. "That is being determined, obviously." He paused before bringing up video on his datapad that was synced with the holoprojector.

"Here we have a video feed from one of the surviving transports." The holoprojector showed an enhanced view of the system. One of the lead ships was attacked by a stream of fighters emerging from hiding amongst the atmosphere of a gas giant. The battle proceeded until a Venator-class cruiser emerged, punishing an unprepared Bayonett class patrol frigate." The E.D paused the video feed, just as an explosion rocked the smaller patrol ship.

"E chu ta," one of the officers exclaimed. "Is that an old Republic cruiser?"

"Yes," the E.D answered. "And it has an interesting history." He tapped something on his datapad and the holoprojector zoomed in on the cruiser.

"Our analysts were able to pull infrared imagery from the sensor scans from the convoy's records," Krom informed them. "Someone has painted over the registration number on the hull of the ship, but the paint only obsured the numbers on the visible and ultraviolet spectrums. It's the _Hunter,_ a cruiser that went awol at the end of the Clone Wars."

Dekai knew the story of the _Hunter_. When the Jedi conspiracy had attempted a coup on the old Republic Senate, the clones had turned on their former leaders in the Grand Army and executed them. Apparently the captain of the _Hunter_ had been involved with the Jedi in some way. When the clones removed the Jedi from command of the army he took his ship and disappeared. There had been a search for him from the nascent Imperial Navy, but they had turned up nothing.

"I didn't know that pirates typically used anything that big," a supervisor from the Analysis division said.

"They don't," agreed Dekai's boss, Telranni Calder. "When pirates start using something that big they attract attention and typically get dealt with. And most gangs don't get big enough before they break upto be able to afford a cruiser."

"The use of a Venator is worrisome," the E.D said. " At the end of the Clone Wars a few went into use as planetary security around major systems after they were phased out of frontline patrol, and there are few enough of those left. The rest were broken up for scrap by the major shipyards. Especially Kuat."

"So not only did pirates attack a highly sensitive convoy, they did so in force that is unheard of," Ysanne said. There was a moment of silence in the room as they all thought about the implications. "Perhaps this was not the work of pirates at all, but instead the action of something much more problematic."

"Such as?" Lorne Krom asked.

"Organized rebellion. Purposeful sabotage against the Empire," she proposed. "Has this _Hunter_ surfaced before now?"

"Not that we know of," the E.D answered her. "And so we come to the next stage of this briefing. Chief Supervisor Calder, I believe you have a man who was just in the sector where this occurred."

"Yes," Calder answered. He stood and gestured at Dekai. "This is Special Agent Dekai. He just returned from the field, investigating a corruption case in the Lantillies sector involving a Moff that I believe could have pertinence to this incident."

Dekai stood as Chief Calder retook his seat.

"I was in the Jappa system," Dekai told them, "located within the Lantillies sector. I don't know its proximity to the system where this attack took place offhand. I was investigating an enormous amount of funds that have been wasted in the construction of a base for the Stormtrooper Corp. What I discovered, outlined in a report I'm sure can be made available to all you, was a pattern of attacks on certain corporate shipping in the Lantillies sector. The uptick in piracy coincided with the beginning of the Governor of Jappa's government. And the pattern of attacks does not appear to be random, it targets the rivals of corporations and businesses known to be friendly with the Governor. Some of these attacks have been on Imperial convoys."

"You are implying the Governor of Jappa had knowledge of a top secret Imperial convoy?" Lorne Krom asked skeptically. Dekai noted the affected contempt on the man's face.

"I'm not implying anything," Dekai responded calmly. "Yet. However there is evidence that the Governor's superior, Moff Sawn, is also involved in the conspiracy. It would take someone that highly placed in order to have the intelligence clearance necessary to have knowledge of naval shipments and schedules. It was stated earlier that our highly sensitive convoy was not using a top secret route."

"The connection is possible," Isard agreed. "He wouldn't need particular information in order to stake out hyperspace routes, or feed information to those who could independently act."

"It warrants checking out," the E.D agreed. "This conspiracy involving this Moff, it would deserve an operation on its own even if this top secret loss had not occurred."

The Executive Director looked around the room. "Now that the outer rim reconquests have been concluded and largely wrapped up, the advancement of the New Order can proceed throughout all corners of the galaxy. I have knowledge that the Emperor himself is soon to give a speech before the Imperial Senate outlining new priorities. In particular, stamping out seditious behavior and destructive activity. This is sure to give organizations like the Hutt criminal empires a hot tail, and anti-piracy activity is sure to take higher priority now."

"The admirals and captains of the fleet need a new enemy to aim their destroyers at, all of them eager to be the next General Romodi," Isard smirked. She referred to a famous Imperial army officer who fought against Separatist hold-outs after the Clone Wars. He was a frequent character in holodramas about explosions and macho heroes.

"And it's going become a priority for the Empire's intelligence service as well. Both of them," the E.D added. "This particular matter is of grave importance to the Empire, Grand Moff Tarkin himself has been briefed on it. It is important enough to be made a joint operation between Imperial Intelligence and the Security Bureau. Krom will be our go between."

The I.S.B agent stood. "An operation is currently being planned between us and the Navy. We may make of use of Intelligence assets, and I will inform any of you if we have need of your services."

"We aren't the primary agency on this?" Isard asked. Clearly she wanted in on it personally, Dekai thought to himself.

"Results are what matter," the E.D said, probably attempting to head of any factionalism. "We will provide any intelligence necessary for the success of the operation. Until then, don't discuss any of this openly. I don't have to tell you that anything to do with the Death Star is as sensitive as it gets."

With that the meeting ended, and those who did not have pressing matters began talking among themselves. Ysanne Isard caught up Agent Krom in a discussion about the operation, although he was clearly reluctant to give up details.

Dekai wondered what part his investigation would play into this new development. He wasn't particularly ambitious and didn't feel the need to unnecessarily attach himself to high profile operations. The failure of which tended to have consequences in the Emperor's New Order.

But to his mind the coincidence of a conspiracy involving piracy, and the raid on a sensitive Imperial convoy in the same sector, was suspicious. He exited the conference room lost in thought.

oOoOo

As blaster fire whizzed past his head, Kel expertly dodged behind a black obstruction cube in Imperial Intelligence's live fire training ground. Or he attempted to. Out of breath, his foot slipped out from underneath him and he crashed into the barrier in a half roll, collided into into against his back.

The air knocked out of his lungs, he listened to the shouts of the squad leader of the group of recruits who was leading the mock battle against a team of stormtrooper trainers who were hired to assess the combat abilities of Kel's class of potential recruits to Imperial Intelligence.

As far as he could tell, they weren't doing very well. The squad leader had taken the members of the class with actual combat experience into the center of the arena, instructing the rest of them, half a dozen recruits, to cover their backs and call out flanking attacks. Two recruits covered the right flank, one covered the center from a sniper's nest, and Kel and two others were supposed to watch the left flank.

The push into the middle had been successful at first, their leader directing a blistering assault on the stormtroopers, stunning four out of twelve of the enemy and removing them from the combat. However, his plan fell apart when the two guarding the right flank grouped too closely together and were taken out simultaneously by a stun grenade.

The stormtroopers rushed around them and started firing on the center from behind. They used their cover, preventing the recruit's sniper from keeping them at bay. Without any warning the center was taken off guard.

From the sounds of the startled screams as the recruits got hit with all too real stun shots from the Stormtrooper's E-11 blasters, Kel knew he needed a plan.

He didn't know how much weight this combat training was supposed to carry for Imperial Intelligence in their decision on whether he made for a promising applicant or not. However, he did not want to look like a complete idiot.

He hadn't fired a shot yet and he knew he needed to do something heroic. He ignored the squad leaders shouts, something about falling back and covering their retreat from the high ground, and took a deep breath. He knew he had one enemy directly ahead of him and two probably trying to flank him.

He peeked over his obstruction. To the side, almost up against the tall wall of the arena, was a row of columns. He imagined that he was his enemy. If he were them, he would use the columns as cover, moving from one to the other until the had a shot at him. A blaster shot whizzed over his head from their sniper, splashing harmlessly against the side wall. It seemed like a futile shot, but he knew their sniper was telling him something.

He holstered his blaster and removed both of the stun grenades from his utility belt. He held them in each hand, his thumb hovering the arming switch.

His teammate was behind him. He was a middle aged man training to become a double agent, who in his civilian life ran a foodstuff company. In the middle of the battle Kel couldn't remember his name.

The man had a look on his face that Kel read either as confusion or anger. He could see what Kel was about to do and clearly did not approve.

"Cover me!" Kel mouthed silently, working his mouth exaggeratedly in order to make himself understood. The man shook his head negatively. Kel held up his hand, raising two fingers and gesturing towards the wall. The man frowned, confused.

Kel shook his head decided to blunder on without the covering fire he desired. He took one last deep breath and jumped up from behind his obstruction at the fullest run he could manage. Blaster fire whizzed past his body, narrowly missing a torso shot.

Halfway to the column barriers he armed one stun grenade and flung it against the wall. It ricocheted sideways. Kel abruptly adjusted course, screamed at the top of his lungs and jumped vertically in the air.

At the top of his jump, just as he began to fall back, he threw the grenade as hard as he could towards the center of the arena. On his way back down he took three simultaneous blaster shots, two to the torso and one to the face.

In the observation room set against the backwall of the arena Senior Recruitment Operative Khol frowned as she watched Kel jump from behind his obstruction.

"Ships and stars," she heard one of the other recruitment officers sigh. "Pathetic."

She watched as Kel tossed one of his stun grenades against the wall, in a seemingly desperate flailing motion she couldn't even remotely categorize as graceful. Barreling forward a couple meters, seemingly unaware of the blaster fire whizzing around him from multiple angles. He jumped, tossing his other grenade and taking multiple blaster shots.

The first grenade exploded, taking out the opposition force stormtrooper just after he fired one of the shots that hit Kel.

The other grenade sailed through the air for what seemed like an eternity. Khol's eyes followed it as it landed in the center of the arena, it's charge of energy erupting as soon as it hit.

The three stormtroopers that were caught in the blast were busy massacring the group of recruits attempting to cower in the center of the arena. With four troopers taken out of the fight within seconds of each other, including the the stormtrooper's squad leader, momentum swung in the recruits favor.

The sniper nailed a trooper who was staring towards the center of the arena in shock. The one remaining trooper in the middle of the arena tried to fall back and took a shot from the sniper in the back.

The recruit who had failed to provide covering fire for Kel took up his former position behind the cube obstruction and kept the two remaining trooper pinned down with some inaccurate blaster fire. The recruit's squad leader rallied the remainder of his team and stormed the troopers side of the arena, catching both them in a crossfire. After a few moments one of the troopers fired a flare into the air towards the lofty ceiling, signalling his surrender. The lights in the arena rose.

"Well, that was unexpected," said the officer who had moments earlier criticized Kel. "But there is no way any of that would have worked in an actual battle."

"Well, he is not a recruit meant for field work," Khol qualified. "Despite his ineptitude in combat he clearly has the ability to plan during high stress situations."

"Maybe…" the other officer shrugged.

Khol made some notes on her datapad as attendants entered the arena, carting off the unconscious and taking them to the medbay.

For the second time in as many months Kel woke up in a medical suite. Unlike last time he didn't notice any armed guards nearby. He was the only patient in the room, all the other medical beds were empty.

He pulled off the blanket covering him, revealing several bacta patches, one over his stomach and another on his chest. A numbness and irritating itching sensation on his cheek alerted him to another patch. He reached up and grazed his fingers over his cheek. The patch was more modest than the others, only covering the skin of his cheekbone almost to his ear, on the left side of his face.

Kel sat upright and noticed a blue light against the far side of the medbay wall light up repeatedly. When a medical attendant rounded the corner he guessed there were sensors in the medbay that alerted the staff when a patient woke up.

"How are you doing? Just wake up?" the attendant asked. He stopped in front of Kel's bed squinted at his face.

"Yeah, you aren't going to knock me out or anything are you?" Kel asked.

"Excuse me?" the attendant answered confusedly.

"The last time I woke up in a medbay I was immediately tranquilized," Kel revealed. "My only other stay in a hospital. It's not standard procedure or anything I'm guessing."

"Uh, no, not really," the attendant frowned. "Unless you're dangerous something?"

Kel swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Harmless as a space flea," he assured the man.

"Space flea?" the attendant's eyes narrowing. "They can be quite dangerous, especially the Sarconian green fleas. They carry all sorts of disease, and they're incredibly hard to get rid off."

Kel hadn't been aware space fleas were a real thing. "Well anyway, how long have I been out?"

"Just a few hours. You took multiple stun blasts simultaneously but it was the blow to the head that kept you down for so long. The bacta patches are just for the burns. They're mostly superficial, should be almost no scar tissue at all."

In fact, the medical attendant informed him, they could probably come off. He assisted Kel with removing them. Luckily the energy from the stun blasts had burned off the hair on his skin, so it wasn't too painful. He was handed a fresh pair of clothes, a set of plain Imperial military jumpers and matching gray shirt, and the boots he had worn in the arena.

After getting his thumbprint in their datapad's registering his release from medical care, he was free to go. Still a bit stiff, lingering effects from the stun blasts he had been told, he shuffled out of the medbay. He didn't know if Imperial Intelligence headquarters had a massage specialist, but he was dying to find out.

Kel exited the medbay and entered the large corridor beyond. He glanced around at the traffic, which was modestly heavy. It was near the end of the business day, and a lot of the staff who lived outside of the facility were heading home.

Kel had been on Imperial Center for almost two weeks, and had been confined to Imperial Intelligence headquarters the entire time. While the facility was massive he didn't have the clearance to access the majority of it, as he was still a potential recruit. He couldn't even go to the public areas of headquarters, lest he attempt an escape. He was starting to feel antsy, when he wasn't being nervous about prospects of acceptance into the Agency.

He was just about to head off down the corridor and towards the dormitory where his class of recruits were housed when someone cleared their throat behind him. He would've jumped, if he had been physically up to it. Instead he sort of stumbled like someone had kicked him behind the knees.

He turned and recognized a girl, no a woman he corrected himself, from his recruitment class. She was the sniper from the arena.

"Hey there," she greeted. She blonde hair and blue eyes, and as she stood up from a bench sitting to the left of the medbay entrance, stood more than a few centimeters taller than Kel. If he had to guess she was about ten galactic standard years older than him. But he couldn't remember her name.

"Uh, hi," Kel said. "You weren't waiting for me were you?" he asked as she began to stretch her arms over her head. Kel couldn't help but admire her a bit. She looked to him as if she had walked out of one of those cheesy Imperial recruitment posters designed to get young male Imperials all hot and bothered.

"Actually I was," she revealed. "Got orders."

"Orders?" Kel asked.

"Yeah, from Khol, one of the personnel operatives."

"Oh, yeah. I know her. She interviewed me," Kel said.

"Right. She's not very pleasant. But seems fair," she nodded.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been sort of keeping to myself, but I can't remember your name," Kel revealed. She didn't seem insulted.

"Don't worry about it. Until a few hours ago I didn't know your name either. Kel Pereth, the hero of the arena," she shook her head in mild disgust. "My name is Cereen Faye." She held out her hand and Kel hesitated only a moment before shaking it. Her skin looked soft, but her hands were not. He could feel slight calluses on her palms.

"Nice to meet you," Kel greeted. "Hero?"

"That's what the other recruits were saying in the locker room. Some of the had been stunned and missed it, so it made a good story for the rest of us to tell. We were getting mauled out there, embarrassed even. I know that team exercises won't necessarily hurt us, after all we are being evaluated individually. But it couldn't have helped. You turned certain defeat into victory. They talked about buying you a round."

"Is there a cantina around here?" Kel asked.

"I honestly don't know," she said, looking down the corridor as if a cantina might pop up unexpectedly.

"But you were mowing guys down out there. I don't think a loss would affect your standing that much," Kel said.

"Maybe. I wouldn't have gone down easy, but they would've flanked me. At the very least you saved me from getting stunned. I've been stunned before, not pleasant."

"Yeah, tell me about. This wasn't my first time either," Kel responded.

"I'm sure there is a story there, but we should get moving," Cereen smiled. "I'm here to give you instructions by the way, and to make sure you go to the right place."

The crowd had thinned out a bit during their conversation, which was fortunate as they were now walking against the stream of traffic.

"What are my instructions?" Kel asked.

"There was a briefing after the arena. We are at a milestone in our recruitment process, and apparently we will face further testing to determine if there is a place for us in Imperial Intelligence," Cereen informed him. "We have to be at the lecture hall on level 5 at 900 hours, tomorrow."

"Another test? I thought this whole thing was one giant test," Kel said. Internally he felt that if they gave him another written exam he would tell them to shoot him right now and get it over with.

"Yeah, but this seemed to be…" she paused, trying to think of the right word. "Singularly eventful. I think it's a big deal."

"Any clues?" Kel asked.

"Not really," she shook her head. "They didn't give any details."

They reached the end of the corridor, where two sets of curved turbolifts sat at a t-intersection with a perpendicular hallway. The got into the left turbolift when the door swung open, allowing a high ranking Agent wearing the formal white Imperial Intelligence uniform to pass by.

They were silent on the short turbolift ride to the level their dormitory was on, and silent as they exited the lift and walked down the wide hall. Kel knew both of them were thinking about the upcoming test. He had his suspicions, but he didn't want to voice them. Apparently she felt the same way.

They reached the door that led into their dorm when Cereen abrudptly stopped. Kel lagged behind but stopped as well. Cereen turned to him and smiled.

"Well, Kel Pereth, this is where I'm going to leave you. My orders have been fulfilled." She gave a short bow, as if he were a superior officer.

"Uh, thanks" he managed to say.

"We probably wont speak before this mysterious test, so good luck," she said.

"Thanks," Kel smiled back, in a way he hoped was friendly. "Where are you going?" he asked as she walked backwards away from the dormitory and back down the hall.

"Shooting range. Going to blow off some steam," she raised her eyes.

Kel watched her walk down the hall for a moment in a completely non-obvious way, he hoped, before going inside the dormitory.


	6. Chapter 5: Loyalty

It had been nearly two weeks since Lorne Krom had been in the briefing with Imperial Intelligence about the Lantillies Sector problem, as he referred to it in unsecure company. His bosses at the Imperial Security Bureau had decided to outsource some of the work through their rivals at Imperial Intelligence. And, as confident as the Bureau was in his operation's success, they could also shift some of the blame around if things went poorly.

Krom was a successful Agent, rising rapidly through the Bureau's ranks after he had uncovered a series of traitors within the Imperial Senate. The traitors had been funding anti Imperial propaganda designed paint the Imperial Moffs as ruthless dictators. Krom had to admit that they were ruthless dictators, but he didn't see anything wrong with it. Having a clear chain of command and one powerful authority led to so much more efficiency within society. He felt it was better than having the masses all at the table of power, tearing the galaxy apart as each faction tried to get their own slice of the pie. He had led a retrieval team to the hackers, who had got their propaganda onto official Imperial newsfeeds, after discovering clues in the videos that gave away their location. His team had impersonated a wealthy potential backer offering to fund their operation and promptly captured the lot of them.

After the application of some extremely enhanced interrogation techniques they had given up their funders in the Senate. He still couldn't believe the Senators had been so stupid as to fund the hackers themselves, rather than do it through an intermediary.

Agent Krom had been careful about using the information provided for him by Imperial Intelligence. Rather than rounding up Moff Sawn and Governor Sant and breaking their ring of corruption, he decided to put their plot to use for his own strategy.

Krom had instructed his contacts within the Imperial Navy to release a schedule of convoys using hyperspace routes that were similar to the convoy that had been attacked while carrying state of the art power generators for the Death Star. He staked out the routes in advance, placing probe droids in passive scan mode that would alert him to the presence of the pirates. Then they would swoop in and destroy them. He only hoped that the _Hunter_ would show up.

He sat at a desk in a private cabin aboard the Star Destroyer _Rabid Pursuit_. They were sitting in the blackness of space only a short hyperspace jump away from the next scheduled convoy on the list.

The Imperial Navy had been all too happy to work with the Security Bureau. The Admiral in charge of the Lantillies sector had been having difficulty securing the trade routes through the area, and Krom knew that continued attacks would likely have a negative impact on the man's career. The Navy had set up a fake convoy that would depart on the first leg of their journey, so that whatever spies the conspiracy were using to alert the pirates would be tipped off, and then stop before they reached their first destination. If nothing was detected they knew the pirates would not be attacking at that point in the journey.

It had taken only a week to set the plan into motion, a feat Krom was proud of. And although he didn't expect results after only a few days, he was anxious. Life aboard a Star Destroyer, in the absolute middle of nowhere, with nothing to do but wait, was torture. Ysanne Isard, the daughter of the Director of Imperial Intelligence, had insisted on being let in on the operation. Krom was initially reluctant. He wasn't scared of her, after all, he was I.S.B, and her father had no direct authority over him. But then again, she would make a powerful ally. And contacts amongst his rivals could be useful one day.

He got up from his desk, being sure to take his comlink with him. He wore the blue combat armor that had been designed exclusively for the Bureau. He had absolutely no combat training whatsoever, but he thought it looked intimating. He exited his room and began to walk the shiny black corridors of the destroyer.

The passing stormtroopers either nodded at him in submission or ignored him entirely, as they were trained to do. Stormtroopers shouldn't speak unless spoken to, after all. Some of the passing officers gave him sidelong glances, either born out of fear or suspicion. The I.S.B was notorious for spying on other parts of the Imperial government, including the Navy. If he wanted to he could accuse any officer, no matter their rank, of political disloyalty and have them shipped off to a behavioral modification facility. Except for perhaps the captain. The crew had loyalty to their Captain above all else, and he could order Krom shot if he chose, although he would face dire repercussions from the I.S.B.

But spying on stormtroopers and unimportant Navy officers was far below Krom's pay grade. And if even he wanted to spy on them, he wouldn't be parading around in an I.S.B combat uniform.

He reached an entertainment lounge that was three decks below the bridge tower of the destroyer. It was three quarters of the way into the day cycle aboard the ship, so most of the crew were still on duty. But it was still too early for the crew of the next shift to be getting their pre-shift meal. So the place was mostly empty.

He walked past the empty tables, some of which were for cafeteria style seating, and others that were designed for pazaak and sabacc. The gaming tables were over near the wide viewport. Outside the stars were shining brightly amongst the abyss of space. He stood there for a few minutes wishing there was a planet nearby that the destroyer could turn to slag for his entertainment.

Suddenly his comlink whistled.

"This is Krom," he answered.

"Krom, this is Isard, I'm on the bridge," she responded.

"Did you get an alert?" Krom asked.

"Yes, yellow alert," Ysanne revealed. Krom knew that yellow alert meant that probable pirate ships had been spotted within the system, but that the _Hunter_ had not revealed itself.

"Alright, I'll be up there," Krom informed her. He was already considering his options as the left the lounge in a hurry and headed towards the turbolifts.

He arrived on the bridge to find Ysanne Isard standing next to the Captain of the _Rabid Pursuit,_ Ulox Praide. She was wearing a black officers uniform, which her hair tied back into a pony-tail. Krom noted that she preferred to blend in rather than stand out amongst the crew, as he preferred. He felt that her long, against code hairstyle and extraordinarily contrasting eye colors ruined the effect.

"What system is the alert coming from?" he asked. They both turned towards him.

"An unnamed system," Captain Praide answered. "Third leg of the route."

"Any info on the pirates?" Krom followed up.

Ysanne shook her head. "In order to avoid detection and risk tipping off the pirates the probes can only send short bursts of encrypted information. We don't have force composition. We only know for certain that the _Hunter_ isn't there."

"Should we go in?" Praide asked. Krom wanted to catch the old Republic cruiser, but he was afraid that taking out only a portion of the gang would alert the rest of them that the Empire was on their trail. This could cause the conspirators to go to ground. On the other hand, if they managed to catch some of the pirates alive they could interrogate them and gain a treasure trove of information about the pirates and their backers.

"Yes, let's hit the rim spun sleemos," Krom growled. "And catch a few alive, if we can," he added.

"Right," the Praide nodded. He went off to alert his bridge crew.

"Is this the right move?" Isard asked.

"I'm tired of waiting," Krom said.

The captain got his crew moving, shouting orders into the crew pits. Only moments ago the atmosphere on the bridge was relaxed, maybe even dreary. Now it abuzz with activity. Only a couple minutes after giving the orders the ship jumped into hyperspace and the stars outside the ship became thin lines.

oOoOo

Kel arrived in the lecture hall well in advance of the required time. Some of the other recruits had had the same idea, and they were clustered together in the first couple rows of seats in front of the stage. He walked slowly down the main aisle between the sections until he reached the stage, trying not to think about what would be expected of them.

Instead of going into the seats and joining the others he sat at on the edge of the stage, facing back towards the seats and the entrance to the lecture hall. He looked around the room and noticed that Cereen hadn't arrived yet.

After a few minutes almost half the class of recruits had entered the hall. There were fourteen of them in all. Kel didn't know most of their names, and hadn't spent even spent much time getting to know the ones that slept in the same dormitory as him. He knew that this was temporary. Once he was accepted and made an a member of Imperial Intelligence, and placed in whatever role they had in mind for them, then he would think about being friendly. After what had happened on Jappa he knew that at any moment the Imperial could change their mind about him. He had already come too close to death and an anonymous disposal in some Imperial incinerator.

Finally he saw Cereen enter the hall. She was talking with another female recruit, and she had put her blonde hair up in a military style bun. She looked good, and way more professional than Kel felt. She took a seat in the third row, behind the other recruits. She noticed Kel and nodded at him. Kel smiled back.

A few more minutes passed, with Kel checking his chronometer practically every few seconds. At 0901 hours their handlers entered the hall. Kel recognized Khol, the woman who had interviewed him, amongst them. He jumped up from from the stage and made towards the seats with the rest of the recruits when Khol caught his eye and shook her head.

"You're fine where you are Pereth," she said. She hadn't said it in an unfriendly manner, but she didn't give him a second look. Kel opted to stand next to the stage, which caught odd glances from the other recruits.

The Intelligence officers, four of them in all, took the stage. One of them, a man who appeared to be over fifty standard years old, cleared his throat.

"What are the lot of you doing? You think this is some kind of university course?" he yelled. "Stand up!"

The recruits hastily stood from their seats. Kel was already standing but he stood a little straighter.

"All of you were chosen for recruitment for a reason," Khol began. She walked across the stage, making sure to spare a glance at each recruit in turn. Except for Kel, whom she did not turn to. "All of you have something to offer the Agency. But the Agency doesn't take just anyone who fills out the employment application. No matter where you came from, or what you think you've accomplished before arriving here, we have judged you on your merits. Some of you have not been found worthy."

The class of recruits stiffened.

"Imperial Intelligence takes all kinds," the older man continued. "Commandos, computer hackers, detectives, pilots. We value intelligence, creativity, efficiency, and above all else, loyalty. Loyalty to the Empire, and loyalty to the Agency above all else."

"All of you, get up here," a third officer ordered. He was a thin man whom Kel had not met before. Kel turned and jumped onto the stage and then walked over towards the officer. The others filed out of the seats and took the short stair steps on either side of the stage.

"Line up," the older officer ordered, point towards the back of the stage. Already on the stage, was the first to line up. He didn't know exactly where the man wanted him so he chose a spot at random and turned and faced towards the seats. The other recruits lined up beside him.

"Kel Pereth, step forward," Khol announced. _Loyalty,_ he reminded himself. He stepped forward without hesitation. Inwardly he was running scenarios inside his head.

"You've shown excellent marks in all of the written exams. But your marksmanship and other combat skills are woefully inadequate. Do you know what your biggest weakness is?" she asked.

Kel thought for a moment. He was tempted to say that his piloting skills were his biggest weakness. After all, he had nearly killed himself back on Jappa, and that had been before the tie fighters had started shooting at him.

"My loyalty?" he answered.

"That's right," Khol nodded. Kel didn't noticeably avert his attention or his gaze, with which he had to tried to imitate the military style. Staring straight ahead no matter what. She didn't sound angry with his answer, but as she walked in front of him he noticed she wore a blaster on her hip. All of the other officers joined Khol in front of the recruits. Kel noticed all of them wore blasters, something that was uncommon amongst non security staff inside Imperial Intelligence.

"Spaith Inrohause, step forward," the older officer commanded. One of the older recruits stepped forward. Kel didn't recognize the name, but he soon recognized the man's voice.

"Spaith, you too have excelled in your written exams. You too have had poor showings in your combat tests. Do you know what your biggest weakness is?" the officer asked.

"Loyalty, sir," Spaith answered. Kel recognized him as the man who had failed to back him up inside the arena.

"Actually no, not loyalty," the officer disagreed. He walked over until he stood in front of Spaith. "Try again."

There was a pause. "Uh, creativity?"

"Wrong again," the officer shook his head. He removed his blaster from his hip holster. "Your biggest weakness is bravery. You fold under high stress." The officer began walking again, looking at the recruits from face to face as he went across the stage.

"Some of you were chosen because you could be good field agents, inserted into our response teams operating throughout the galaxy. Others were chosen for more specialized skills." Kel noticed the officer glance at him. "And a few were chosen for very specific operations. Long term embedment within society."

He walked back towards Spaith. "No matter how much your background speaks to your loyalty to the Empire and the New Order, how can we trust a man who folds under pressure? Anyone." No one answered.

Kel stole a glance over at Spaith. The man was sweating bullets and looked like he would either pass out or make a run for it.

"It's alright, you tried your best," the officer said. He placed a hand upon the man's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "You can wait over here," he said, pushing him gently forward towards the front of the stage.

Khol stepped in front of Kel. She had her blaster out as well and she raised it towards his face. He didn't budge but began to sweat as well.

"Tell me where you're from!" she yelled.

"What?" Kel asked, confused. He knew she already had his background information.

"Tell me how you arrived here! Who brought you to Imperial Center?" she yelled again, removing the safety from her blaster.

"I don't understand," Kel shook his head.

"I've seen your test results. I know you speak Basic. Answer my questions or I will shoot you in face!" Khol yelled.

Kel remained silent. He silently dared her to shoot him. He knew he would never see his family again anyway.

To his surprise she lowered her blaster.

"Some qualities are innate," the older officer said to the recruits, resuming his walk. "Others are learned. And loyalty can be earned. Some of you come from the stormtrooper corps. Some from planetary security. Your background already speaks to your loyalty to the Empire. You had references backing up your qualities. Otherwise you wouldn't be here." He walked past Kel. "But some of you come from civilian life. You don't have the references."

"But perhaps he just hasn't had the opportunity," said the thin officer. His core world accent was thicker and more prim than the others. "Loyalty can be innate. But it must be proven, over and over again. All you will face tests, even when you are no longer recruits. Imperial Intelligence demands unquestioned loyalty, in the face of all danger. Your life means nothing. Your loyalty means everything."

Khol once again raised her blaster. But this time she gripped it by the barrel, with the grip towards Kel.

"Take it," she said softly. He hesitated out of surprise but quickly recovered.

"I know that your marksmanship isn't the best, but you could shoot me from that distance, yes?" the older officer asked.

"I suppose," Kel answered, frowning. He motioned him forward and Kel walked over.

Kel stood where the man pointed. He walked around behind him, placing his hands on his shoulder. He turned him towards Spaith.

"Could you shoot him?" he asked.

Spaith had relaxed somewhat from his earlier questioning when the attention had gone to Kel, but now his face turned red with panic.

"Better do it quick," the officer recommended calmly.

Kel raised the blaster, his eyes wide with fear. " _Was this real_?" he thought to himself.

"Shoot him, that's an order!" Khol yelled.

Kel pulled the trigger. There was a slight recoil in the blaster. A flash of hot air around the barrel. A sharp snap as the trigger snapped forwards. The sound of the shot echoed throughout the hall, the acoustics causing the sound to reverberate. Kel gazed at Spaith as the bolt struck his face, as if he was underwater. The back of the man's head exploded, showering the wall with blood. His body fell backwards and hit the stage with a dull thump, which also echoed through the room. The sound of it echoed inside Kel's head long after it stopped.

Kel lowered the blaster and felt himself swaying on the spot.

"Good aim," the older officer said, placing his hand on Kel's shoulder. He took the blaster from his hand, which was shaking.


	7. Chapter 6: A Trap

Lorne Krom stared out towards the bridge viewport at the swirl of hyperspace.

"What is our e.t.a Captain?" he asked. He glanced over. Captain Praide was instructing one of his officers and held up his hand.

After he finished giving orders he walked over to the I.S.B agent. "Just a few minutes. We were only a few dozen light years away from the system. We will also be coming in from an odd angle, not where traffic typically enters. We should catch them completely off guard."

"Are your fighters prepped and ready? We will need to launch them immediately. They should run as soon as they spot us on their scanners," Ysanne Isard asked.

"Yes, yes, everything is ready," Praide shook his head dismissively. "Let us take care of the strategy."

Ysanne clearly bristled at his comment.

Soon enough a whistle on the bridge alerted them that the ship was about to exit their short hyperspace jump. Krom stood next to the holo projector as they entered the system. Sensor data automatically filled the ship's computers, which translated the data into a view of the system projected in holographic form.

The system consisted of one large red giant star and a handful of lifeless rocky planets. The _Rabid Pursuit's_ sublight engines fired and accelerated the ship towards the the center of the system.

"Anything yet?" the captain called out to his sensors crew pit.

"Multiple ships spotted, they fit the probe's profile for the pirates." The holoprojector buzzed and a group of red dots appeared. They were in the shadow of one of the rocky planets.

"They range from snub fighters to medium freighters. About twenty of them. And something else," a crewman answered.

One of the dots on the holoprojector was far away from the planet. Actually it was halfway between its fellows and the star destroyer.

"Can you zoom in?" Krom asked, gesturing at the projector.

"One moment, more detailed data incoming," the crewman answered.

The system wide view scattered from the holoprojector and was replaced by the image of a very odd looking ship.

"What is that?" Krom asked, frowning.

Captain Praide stared at the ship for a moment, thinking. "It's a space tug. Might be an old model from Kuat Drive Yards. I've never seen them out in the wild before. It's heavily modified. Almost like they've turned it into some kind of pocket assault carrier." The ship was incredibly short and boxy, wider than it was long. The port and starboard sides of the ship were longer than the middle and held two sets of sublight engines. The hull space between the two sides of the ship contained a makeshift docking bay at the rear, large enough for three or four fighters.

Because the holoprojector was only showing the ship and the nothingness space around it, its relative motion was lost to them. But it's four sublight engines flared as it attempted to flee.

"They are built for power, not speed," he added. "We will catch them."

"What about the rest of the ships?" Ysanne asked.

"Already taken care of," Praide shrugged her off.

"Fighters away!" one of the crew officers shouted.

"I'm sending half of the tie's to one end of the system and half to the other. They will outnumber the pirates no matter which way they try to break. I'll take the Destroyer towards the middle of the system. No matter which way they go we will be right behind them."

"It makes sense that they would have a tug in their fleet, for moving disabled ships," Krom said. "But why would it be out there by itself?"

"Let's ask them," the Praide said confidently. "Get targeting solutions for the forward ion cannons." An affirmative came from one of the crew pits.

They were closing the distance quickly between them and the tug. They switched the holoprojector to the system wide view. Two groups of tie fighters, 36 in each group, were speeding out towards opposite ends of the system in arcs that would cut off the pirates from the two hyperspace exit vectors. The third vector was closed off by the Star Destroyer and a gas nebula impeded them from above. Technically the pirates could make blind hyperspace jumps in any direction, but jumping into uncharted hyperspace was usually a bad idea. There was an open hyperspace route below, at the relative "bottom" of the system, but it was a dead end that led towards an extinct mining colony. If the pirates went that way they would be trapped.

"Sir, we are detecting something on our scopes," the sensor chief called out.

The Captain adjusted the holoprojector until it showed the space around the destroyer. A little cloud of blips were appearing, seemingly at random, around the ship.

"What is that?" Krom asked. "Asteroids maybe?" The captain adjusted the resolution, bringing the cloud of blips into focus. It was not an asteroid.

"All stop!" the Captain yelled at the top of his lungs. Just as he gave the order there was a massive explosion just off of the bow of the ship. An expanding cloud of blue energy followed a flash of light that lit up the viewport like lightning in a storm. The bridge shook.

Krom gripped the edges of the holoprojector until his knuckles turned white while Ysanne braced herself against the side wall of the bridge.

"What in the black hells was that!?" Krom screamed. Another explosion, this one off the starboard side of the ship, erupted. The destroyer shook again, with the Krom being thrown forward in the opposite direction from which he had been bracing himself. He was thrown into the projector, nearly toppling into the light above it.

"Shields are down!" an officer called out.

"Full reverse, get us out of here!" the Praide ordered.

"What are those things!?" Ysanne yelled, her voice full of anger.

"Gravity bombs," the captain frowned. "I'd like to know what kind of pirates have gravity bombs," he yelled, casting an accusatory expression at Krom.

The I.S.B agent was having a hard time breathing. He pulled himself upright, wincing in pain. He felt that he may have broken something.

By now the space tug had pulled away again. Some of the pirate ships were flying out to meet it, while the rest flew towards one of the groups of tie fighters.

"What's our status?" the Praide called out.

"Shields are still down, we have fractured hull plating towards the fore and starboard sides of the ship. We've lost six turbolasers, three ion cannons, and four tractor beam projectors."

"Are we still combat effective?" Krom asked.

"Not unless you want a stray torpedo to vaporize your body," the captain retorted angrily. "We still have our fighters."

The first group of tie fighters had engaged the enemy. They outnumbered and outclassed the pirate's snub fighters, a motley mix of obsolete military and stolen planetary security fighters. However the medium freighters, armed with multiple quad laser batteries, evened the odds.

The other group of tie fighters were turning back from other end of the system but they had a long way to go before they caught up to the fight.

"Captain!" the sensor crewman called. "We have inbound ships."

At the far edge of the system, on the other side of the massive dogfight playing out between the Imperial tie fighters and their pirate opponents, a Venator class Republic Cruiser appeared, flanked by two modified bulk cruisers. The long red centerline hangar bay doors opened, and outwards streamed dozens of reinforcements.

"It's the _Hunter_!" Krom yelled. "Captain, you need to get us over there!"

"What's the status of our shields?" Praide asked his first mate.  
"Still down. It's going to take a couple hours to bring auxiliary shields online. The projectors along the hull were shattered by the gravity bombs," the officer answered.

"I'm not engaging without shields," Praide shook his head.

"We can't let them get away!" Krom waved his hand, his face turning red.

The main dogfight was roughly over, with only a couple tie fighters remaining from the initial combat group. The second group of ties had nearly caught up to the space tug and its escort of a half dozen fighters. The tug had been armed with a couple of torpedo launchers, and was picking off the incoming fighters one by one. The tie fighters had no chance at evading the torpedos in open space, but there were too many of them for the pirates to take out all at once.

The tie fighters spread out around the tug and then collapsed their formation, attacking from all angles. The escort fighters scored a couple of hits, but were quickly dealt with. The little explosions rocked the tug as the tie's cannons blasted against its shields. It shrugged off the initial attack, but it wouldn't last much longer.

It didn't have to, however. More pirate ships, two squadrons worth, were breaking towards the center of the system to help their allies, forcing half of the tie fighters to break off and engage the newcomers.

"This isn't looking good," Isard commented. Krom was astonished at how calm she seemed. Her earlier anger had vanished, replaced by something he couldn't quite figure out.

"It's time to leave," captain Praide sighed.

"Excuse me? The battle isn't over yet!" Krom shouted.

"It's over," Isard shook her head. "Your operation has failed."

"She's right," the Captain agreed begrudgingly.

"What about the rest of your fighters?" Krom asked.

"They know their duty," the middle aged captain said, straightening the bottom of the jacket of his uniform. "Helmsman, take us out of the system," he ordered.

The _Rabid Pursuit_ turned back, away from the battle. Pieces of scorched, blackened hull plate drifted in space in its wake. It jumped into hyperspace, disappearing from whence it came. The fighters it left behind didn't last much longer.

OOOOO

Kel sat at the edge of his bed inside the dormitory at Imperial Intelligence headquarters. It had been several hours since the events in the lecture hall, but he could still hear the ringing of the blaster that had taken off Inrahausen's head.

He allowed himself to fall backwards onto the bed, blowing air out of his mouth in order to get his bangs out of his face. He stared up at the ceiling, which was painted a very typically Imperial black. He wondered how far he would go. How much would he do that he couldn't have imagined, for an Empire he didn't believe in? How much would he allow them to change him? What would his sister think of him now? She probably thought he was dead.

Such thoughts continued to bounce around inside his head when he heard a pair of footsteps entering the dormitory. The facility was mostly empty. After passing the final test, or watching Kel as he passed it anyway, the other male recruits had gone out to celebrate together. He had not been invited. Which he didn't mind.

"How long have you been like this?" he heard a female voice ask him. He sat up to find Cereen standing there. She was wearing a casual military issue jumpsuit. Black with white stripes down the side of the pant legs. She had unzipped the the top and tied the sleeves around her waist. She wore a blue shirt underneath the jumper. There was a glint of metal chain around her neck, which held a datacard encased in clear plastoid over her chest. It was her new Imperial Intelligence i.d badge.

He had one just like it lying on top of a plasteel dresser, the only bit of furniture inside the room.

"Not very long," Kel answered.

She tested the strength of the dresser by pushing down on it before deciding it was strong enough. She hopped backwards and sat atop it.

"I know what you're going through," she said.

"I find that hard to believe," Kel dismissed.

"Why? We've both killed people," she said.

"No, not people. That guy, he was the first. So my murder count is still in the singular," Kel sighed.

"Well, not mine. But my first kills were not that long ago. Right before I was recruited," she revealed. "I know the sinking feeling. The blood that is on your hands, that you can't wash off."

"Does it go away?" Kel asked.

"No," she shook her head. "But it's like everything else. You get used to it after awhile. Until it becomes no longer just a feeling, but a part of who you are."

Kel had been looking away as they talked, but he turned to face her now. "Why are you here? Why do you care how I feel? Are you even allowed in here?"

"This isn't the refresher," she laughed. "And I wouldn't say that I care about your feelings, per se. But I emphasize. And I can see how badly you are dealing."

"Honestly, I would be more worried if it didn't affect me at all," Kel said.

"Perhaps. But I wouldn't resist become hardened, if I were you. This is the first terrible thing they've made you do. It won't be the last. And anyway, if you hadn't shot him, they would've shot you. It's not like you had a choice."

Inwardly Kel thought of what his sister would say to that. She hard always been more inward thinking than he. She probably would've said, " _you always have a choice, Kel, my dumb idiot brother."_

"So, when do you report for assignment?" Cereen asked.

"Um, next week," he answered.

"Lucky, I'm shipping out tomorrow."

"Where to?" Kel asked.

"Don't know. It's all secretive. I get on a shuttle, meet a contact, and then I'm off to join a response team. It'll be my first time off world."

"Really? Wow."

"Hey," she started, jumping off of the cabinet. "I want one last night of civilian life before I go. And you look like you need a pick me up."

"I feel like I'm being invited for something. Why didn't you go out with the others?"

"Because they are terribly _Imperial_ stiffs. Most of them are old, and they hit on me way too often."

"I've had more important things to worry about," Kel assured her.

"I know," she nodded. "You've been given clearance to leave the facility right?"

"Limited clearance. I either have to check in every couple hours over comlink or wear a tracker. What do you have in mind anyway?"

"Bars, my sweet innocent little Imperial agent. I'm going to get you drunk, and laugh at you behind your back."

"Wait," Kel stood. "That sounds like fun and all, but I'm not of drinking age. Or at least I wasn't back home."

"Your an Imperial Intelligence agent Kel," she said, grabbing his identification badge and tossing it to him. "You really think a bouncer is going to turn you away? You aren't too young though, are you?" her eyes narrowing.

"I'm seventeen," Kel revealed nervously.

"Oh," Cereen said, followed with a weak attempt at hiding her disappointment. "Well, I can settle for getting you drunk. Come on, let's go." She walked out of the room, gesturing with her hand for him follow.

"Wait, what else did you have in mind?" Kel almost shouted before hurrying after her. "I might be eighteen. The years could be different here!"


	8. Chapter 7: The Painted Rancor

The Star Destroyer _Rabid Pursuit_ limped through hyperspace back to the nearest Imperial shipyard, which was located in the Lantillies system, the sector capital of the Maldrood sector. The shipyards at Lantillies paled in comparison to the other major shipyards in the galaxy, which included Kuat and Bilbringi, but a series of expansions shortly after the Clone Wars enabled them to service capital ships as large as a Star Destroyer.

The normally pristine bone white hull of the ship was blackened and crumpled where the gravity bombs had impacted. Although the ship's engineers had worked around the clock to enact repairs bits of clouds debris and smoke still drifted out the ship's damaged sections.

Lorne Krom sat in the ship's upper deck lounge at a table in the corner, alone and fuming. He held a tall glass of Corellian black ale, which he had yet to drink from. A datapad sat on the table in front of him, displaying a message from Imperial Center demanding he immediately return to the capital.

Krom had already reported to his superior via holonet relay during the hyperspace jump back to civilized space. He had attempted to put as much of the blame for the failed attack onto Captain Praide as possible, and, after he had considered how the operation had unfolded, onto the various other elements of the navy who had taken part. Krom did not consider himself a coward, and he did not blame others out of pure spite. But he knew that taking responsibility for failure was not the route to a long and happy life in the Empire.

He was sure that somewhere, somehow, the details of the operation had been leaked to the pirates. Although he had planned for such things by compartmentalizing information, releasing details and timetables only shortly before it was time to act, and only transmitting information through trusted operatives using secure channels, the enemy had known exactly when their attack was coming.

How else could they have positioned bombs into the _Rabid Pursuit's_ entry vector into the system? And where could they have obtained such powerful weapons. They were not common, by any means.

An alert from his comlink snapped him out of his reverie.

"Agent Krom, your shuttle is ready," a navy officer informed him.

"Good, I'll be there in a moment," he answered. He left the ale and picked up his datapad, the only possession he had brought aboard the ship.

He arrived in the hangar prep room in only a few minutes and was greeted by the sight of Ysanne Isard leaning with her back against the transparisteel window the looked out into the hangar.

After his briefing with Imperial Intelligence back on Imperial Center Isard had been eager to take part in the operation, even though her role had mostly been as an observer and consultant. She had treated Krom, who was fifteen years her senior, with a mix of respect and deference.

He had not seen her once since the battle, as if she had vanished into thin air. Now he read only dismissal on her impassive face as she watched him arrive on the deck. She must blame him for the failure of the operation. He wondered how harsh her report to her own superiors must've been.

"It appears as if we will be sharing a shuttle," Krom said in greeting.

"So it seems," she shrugged.

"Perhaps you can send a message to Imperial Intelligence for me?" Krom asked.

"What message would that be?"

"Next time their agents can bungle their own operation instead of interfering in ours," Krom snapped at her.

He expected her to be taken aback, and hoped for a little bit of anger, but instead her face remained impassive.

"I'll give my father your message. I may not be able to speak with him right away, however. He could be busy briefing the Emperor about failed attacks on pirates."

Krom didn't know if she was bluffing or not, but he turned away from her in disgust and walked into the hangar where their shuttle awaited.

oOoOo

Kel took his new identification badge to the personnel office, the same one where he had initially conducted his interviews with Senior Operative Khol. Cereen waited outside while he went to the front desk and showed the clerk his new i.d badge.

The rather dry looking man in a drab grey uniform ran the badge through his computer terminal.

"Junior Attendant Kellen Pereth," the man said. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh, first I need clearance to go off facility," Kel announced. "And then I would like to know where I am supposed to be staying. I'm guessing I'm moving on from the recruitment dorms."

"Yes," he said, glancing at his screen. "Temporary accommodations have been assigned to you on level 44-d. There is a desk on that level, give them your badge and they will assign you quarters. As far as clearance to leave the facility…" he pressed a few buttons on his terminal, "you are cleared for up to twelve hours with periodic check ins or a tracking bracelet, until your first performance review. Do you have a preference?"

Kel thought for a moment. At first the idea of willingly putting a tracker on his body seemed reprehensible. However, he had no desire to attempt escape, and nothing to conceal by keeping his movements private. And he didn't want to think about what would happen if he missed a check in, as he was required to do every four hours.

"Yeah, I think I will take the bracelet," Kel informed him.

"Okay, report to the security desk, floor 2, main wing. I will inform them you are on your way."

"Always another kriffing desk to check in at," Kel shook his head.

"What was that?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing."

Cereen accompanied Kel to the security desk where he received his bracelet.

"I'm surprised you chose that," she commented, looking it over.

"Seemed less of a hassle. Besides, I'm not planning on running for it or anything," Kel told her.

The bracelet was a black, soft, plastoid band with a shiny metal disk underneath his wrist. It almost looked like a wrist chronometer.

The entered the public lobby, the huge room covered in Geonosian granite, and headed for the landing pad.

"I got us a ride," Cereen told him as the exited the enormous building.

"Yes!" shouted Kel as the sunlight hit his face for the first time in over two weeks.

"Really?" Cereen asked, laughing.

It was the dying light of the late afternoon, nearly half in the shadow of the Imperial Palace, but Kel took what he could get.

He walked underneath the long covered causeway that led out onto the landing pad. But instead of turning left onto the public landing area Kel had arrived in with agent Dekai, they turned right.

Here a number of taxi speeders awaited their passengers. Cereen led him past these towards a section reserved for private speeders. A sleek green two seater stood out, which possessed two massive engine turbines behind the open air cabin. The gear head inside of Kel immediately became excited.

"Is this yours?" Kel asked, immediately walking behind it to get a look at the engines.

"Yup, its my baby," Cereen answered proudly. "I'm going to have to put in storage after tonight."

"Is it a Sorosuub?" Kel asked.

"That's right, Y-7 model. Modified," she confirmed.

"You added afterburners," Kel noticed. "What's the propellant?"

"Liquid tibanna gas."

"Wouldn't that explode?"

"I think it's diluted. Hey, don't poke around in there," she admonished him as he began to examine the backside of her speeder.

"Sorry," Kel apologized. "Couldn't help it. It's been too long since I've been able to play with an engine."

"Would you settle for flying in it?" she asked as she jumped over the side and into the pilot's seat.

"Sure."

She asked the traffic tower for clearance and took off as soon as they gave it to her. The repulsor units lifted the speeder off the landing pad and she let it hover for a moment before accelerating away from the Imperial Intelligence building and into the sky lane.

"You ever been on Imperial Center before?" she asked as they accelerated past a large hover bus.

"Nope, this is my first time. Went straight to headquarters as soon as I got here," Kel answered.

She flew around a droid piloted cargo speeder and glanced upwards at the layer of traffic above them. Finding an opening, she hit her accelerator hard, triggering the afterburner. Kel closed his eyes and listened to the engine vibrate underneath him. It had a nice, satisfying, rhythmic hum. He could tell it had been finely tuned by a professional mechanic. He knew she hadn't done the modification work herself, or at least not without a lot of assistance.

They gained altitude until they flew above the general flow of traffic and were even with the highest levels of the skyscrapers around them. Kel could see for kilometers in every direction, and the sheer scope of the city staggered him once again.

"Okay, so," she said, glancing around. "Behind us is the Imperial district. Over there is the Senate district." She pointed to their left, and Kel recognized the famous domed, mushroom shaped structure. "South of that is the "CoCo" district."

"CoCo?" Kel asked.

"Commercial Commons. You can see the Imperial Museum, the building that looks like a mini Imperial palace."

"Where are you from?" Kel asked.

"Hirkenglade prefecture, west of CoCo." She tilted the speeder to gain a view of the traffic below and dipped downwards once again. She turned south at a great intersection between two of the districts and sped down the lane, just underneath the general flow of traffic.

"What are the traffic regulations anyway?" Kel asked. He tended to lean away from her every time the seemed about to crash into another speeder. Which was often.

"Don't fly over one hundred fifty kilometers per hour, don't run into anything, don't stop, don't fly against the stream of traffic. And don't get closer than two meters to another vehicle," she added as she swerved between a transport a holo board.

"Are you sure about that last one?" Kel asked, gripping his safety harness a little tighter.

"I was a security officer, remember," she laughed.

She turned west at another large intersection, which was marked by a large permacrete monument featuring a green disc with a chromium lining. At the center of the disc was a holographic sphere which shone brightly with an inner light.

"This is Hirkenglade," she announced.

"What happened there?" Kel asked, noticed a shipping building that looked bombed out. It stood out amongst the other buildings, which looked upper class to his untrained mid rim eye.

"That's my story," she smiled. "You tell me part of yours I'll tell you mine."

"I was told not to," Kel shook his head.

"You're no fun," she said, rolling her eyes at him. She turned down a smaller causeway, which ran between two rows of residential buildings. She slowed down a bit as they grew closer to a pair of wide walkways that was crowded with people.

"I used to live up there," she announced, pointing up a nearby residential building. Kel looked where she directed him and saw a narrow tower clad in burnished desh metal. It was nice looking, although it didn't rise to the dizzying heights of some of the towers in the districts they had passed. "Mid level, just below the metal panelling."

"Used to?" Kel asked.

"I sold my apartment this morning, after recruitment ended. Didn't have much that mattered in it. A few things that did matter I had shipped to my father."

"Your father? Is he your only family?"

"Yeah, mother died in the Clone Wars," Cereen told him sadly. "He lives over in the Manarai mountain district."

"Wow," Kel said, amazed. He wasn't familiar with everything on Imperial Center, but even he had heard of that place. It was one of the wealthiest districts outside of the Senate area.

"He lives mid level, trust me," she smiled. "He got a nice retirement package from the precinct," she explained.

"So he was a security officer as well?" Kel asked.

"Yeah, I was legacy." She dipped her speeder once again and they fell beneath the main level of the district. This area was in the darkness of night already, although it would only receive sunlight near noon, being in the shadow of the neighboring buildings. The causeways in these levels were actually more crowded than the ones above, and Kel spotted a marketplace or two crowded with shoppers.

"Where are we going?" Kel asked. He probably should've asked that a long time ago, but he had been distracted.

"The Painted Rancor, one of my favorite clubs," she told him. At the word 'club' he grew worried.

"I'm not going to have to do anything rhythmic am I? To the tune of music?"

"What? Dance?" she laughed. "No, I wouldn't force you into that kind of torture. I'm not a dancing type."

"Neither am I," Kel agreed.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

He hadn't been thinking about food much in the last couple weeks. But now that his certain death was looking a little less certain, he felt that he could use a decent meal. He nodded and she decelerated and turned into a parking garage. She landed the speeder at the nearest space she could find.

A droid zoomed down from overhead, a little bulbous thing with two large eyeball-like scanners on either side.

"5 credits for the night, please," it demanded of them, politely. It repeated the request in a couple of other languages.

"I don't have any cash," Kel shook his head.

"We can take care of that in a little bit," Cereen said. She retrieved a data card from her jumpsuit and allowed the droid to scan it.

It asked Cereen if she would like a receipt, and after she declined it zoomed up and out sight.

"Efficient," Kel commented.

"What are you hungry for?"

"Meat. And some jappa fruit, if I can get it," Kel answered.

"Jappa fruit?" she asked.

"Something from home," he told her.

"I doubt you are going to be able to find it," she shook her head.

They exited the garage and joined the crowd outside. For the first time since he had arrived on planet, since he left had Jappa really, he was walking within a crowd that was not majority human. He spotted a hammer headed Ithorian, a twi'lek with her twin lekku head tails, a green skinned rodian wearing a spacer's outfit, and a few species he did not recognize.

Cereen steered him towards a market place that was underneath a large fabric canopy. Natural fire lanterns, made of paper, were hung in midair by mini tractor beams. Kel could make out the chirping of birds up in the canopy, the first sign of wildlife he had experienced on the overpopulated capital.

"Over there," Cereen said, pointing towards a large durasteel column. Kel noticed a holographic sign that read 'cash terminal' in aurebesh.

He logged into the terminal and brought up his account, which had been awarded to him early during the recruitment process. There weren't many credits in his account, just enough for meals. He hadn't used it yet, since he had only eaten in the Imperial Intelligence cafeteria before now, which was free.

"What is this place anyway?" Kel asked after he had withdrew some credits and logged out of the terminal.

"Tarai's market," Cereen told him. "It's wonderful isn't it. Tarai's a bothan, and she can cook like no other. She has a cybernetic implant, but it's minor. I've been told she uses it to adjust her recipes for each species. Everyone has different tastes and tolerances."

They made their way to a crowded area at the center of the canopy. A number of beings were seated at a long curved hardwood countertop, behind which sat a number of grills and cooking surfaces, as well as piles of fruit and spice barrels. Kel noticed clouds of steam rising from the grills, and finally caught the scent of simmering meat.

Cereen found an open space at the countertop and flagged down one of Tarai's assistants, a Bith.

"Is the boss in?" Ceren asked.

"No, cyar'ika," the assistant answered with the Huttese slang word for darling.

"Ah, kark," Cereen sighed. "Well, can I get some Selkath soup, spicy," she ordered.

"Right up," the assistant agreed. He, or she, Kel wasn't sure, whistled back to another assistant, a human, who was grilling. She barked orders in a language he couldn't follow.

"What for you?" the Bith asked, her basic a little shaky, as it looked at Kel.

"Um, I don't know. Do you have noodles? Can you serve them with sizzled nerf steak?" Kel asked

"Eniki, right up," the Bith answered positively.

"Ask," Cereen prompted.

"Oh, do you have jappa fruit?" Kel asked.

"Jappa? No jappa. Zoochberry, very good," came the answer.

"Zoochberry? Can you turn it into juice?"

"Eniki," the Bith nodded.

They took seats at the countertop and waited for their food, with Cereen telling him about life on the capital. He soon realized that her district alone had nearly as many residents as the capital city on Jappa. He couldn't fathom an entire planet filled with so many people, and all the things people required, such as markets like the one he found himself in now.

Their food was served, they both paid, and Kel finally got what he considered his first real meal away from Jappa. Tarai's market made the cafeteria back at Imperial Intelligence seem like a joke.

He finished his noodles and then drank the broth out of the wooden bowl they had been served in. Cereen had already finished her soup.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Amazing. I think they might actually be the best noodles I've ever had. The nerf was fantastic," Kel said.

"Are you ready?" Cereen asked. Kel drank the last of his juice and they headed back out onto the causeway.

"Do we have to go to this place?" Kel asked. "I feel like the market was good enough on its own."

"Yes. I will abandon you in the city, don't make me," Cereen chided. "It will be fine."

They walked down the street, weaving their way through a decent crowd of beings, made up of more species than Kel could count. Each being had a different smell as they brushed past, some sweet, and some foul, at least to his tastes.

Overhead a holoboard was advertising vacation homes on a colonies region world Kel had never heard of before. A woman narrated the ad over alternating images of a beach and a luxury cruiser drifting through the stars. The cruiser landed directly into the water and giant text advertising private cabins popped out of the water like some kind of aquatic life.

"This way," Cereen said, leading him towards the entrance to a large turbolift. They got on the lift and waited as it filled up with more people before it descended. They went down five or six levels and exited the platform. This level was little dingier than the one above. Steam and moisture hung in the air in a persistent fog.

They took a walkway over the chasm between the monads of the city blocks. There was a wide alleyway between two of the enormous structures up ahead, which Cereen led them towards. A red banner, featuring a colorful cartoon rancor chasing a landspeeder, hung across the alley.

Half of the alley turned into a long, widely set staircase. A line of beings stood on the stairs, awaiting entrance into the unseen club below. Cereen skipped the line and continued down the stairs.

They descended until the entrance, a wall lit with red holographic light within which was set an enormous pair of bulkhead doors, appeared. One half of the doorway was open, and Kel could see into the club beyond it. It looked already to be nearly full.

Cereen walked up to the team of security standing at the front of the line confidently, looking a little out of place in her Imperial jumpsuit. Most of the other patrons, from what Kel could see, were dressed more for a party. Most of the females were scantily clad. For his part, Kel wore a plain black shirt and a pair of grey trousers.

"Hey boys, and girl," Cereen greeted, nodding towards a large muscular Mirialan woman, whose green skin contrasted sharply with the red light enveloping them.

"Ah, Cereen," one of the men, a Zabrak, greeted. He wasn't as tall as the Mirialan, but his biceps were nearly as big. "It's been awhile. You back on your beat?"

"No, retired," Cereen answered.

"Already?" he asked.

"Yeah. Moving on to bigger and better things. Will be off world this time tomorrow. Any room inside?"

"Always room for you," the Zabrak said sweetly.

Cereen grabbed Kel, who was hanging back looking more than a little intimidated, and pushed him towards the door. She motioned that they were together and they were allowed inside.

"They just let you skip all of the line?" Kel asked.

"They are preferential to local security. Gets them favors when they need it," Cereen explained, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the music.

Now properly inside, Kel glanced around. There was a large dance floor immediately ahead of them. The ceiling was tall and vaulted, with two floors of balcony suites ringing the large square shaped club.

Cereen steered him around the dance floor and towards a bar area underneath one of the balconies. They got a pair of seats at the bar, which was long enough to serve over thirty individuals at once. Holopanels behind the bar were showing various sports, including a particularly fierce shockball game. A male human and twi'lek were into the game, shouting profanities in huttese when the goalie of their team took a shockball to the back of the head.

A bartender approached them and asked for identification. Cereen fished her Imperial Intelligence badge from out of her shirt top and flashed it for the multi-armed besalisk. Kel followed her lead.

"Anything you want," the besalisk hurried to say. Cereen ordered something green and carbonated, while Kel shook his head negatively.

"Order something," Cereen prodded him, nudging him with her elbow.

"I don't know what to order. Maybe something simple," Kel pleaded.

"How about a corellian spiced ale?" Cereen suggested.

"I'll try it I guess," Kel gave in. The bartender soon returned with their drinks.

Cereen downed half of hers immediately while Kel choked. She laughed and hit him in the back.

"You alright?" she asked, fighting back more laughter.

"It's a bit...bitey," Kel explained, his voice suddenly deeper and gravelly.

"Do your Empire proud, finish it and I will get you something more feminine," Cereen proposed.

They sat at the bar for a long while, turning in their seats to watch the crowd. Cereen went through two drinks before Kel finished his ale. The pair of men next to them cheered loudly when their team scored a buzzer beating goal, tying the game and sending it to a shoot out.

"What do you think?" Cereen asked, motioning around the room.

"I don't know if this is really my thing," Kel shrugged.

"You are a thousand sectors from home, you need to experience something beside plain Imperial corridors and stuffy officers breathing down your neck."

"Yeah," Kel agreed. He probably would have prefered something more subdued, but he had to admit that the pulsating colors, the loud music, the diverse mix of species, it was a little hypnotic. Or maybe that was his spiced ale.

Suddenly there came more angry shouts from the bar. Only these did not sound like the cries of angry shock ball fans. They turned to find a large holo screen a little ways down the bar showing a planet from orbit. It appeared as if the atmosphere was on fire.

"What is that?" Kel asked.

"Looks like an illegal underground holonet feed," Cereen guessed. They couldn't hear it over the music but aurebesh subtitles were visible underneath a blue skinned Aruzan female reporter.

" _The Imperial fleet has shut down traffic in the Caamas system. According to the reports of ships who escaped the blockade, the shields to the Caamasi home planet were lowered from the surface, followed by a bombardment. Spokespersons from the Imperial fleet claim a meteorite struck the surface and caused the firestorm, however, navigational charts of the system, one of the oldest of the former Republic, show no dangerous asteroids that could cause such devastation."_

"They hit the whole planet?" Kel asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"They were peaceful!" someone shouted, throwing a drink at the screen. More and more patrons around the bar were becoming aware of the news.

A poor quality video feed from a ship, recorded as it exited what was apparently the Caamas atmosphere, showed streams of turbolaser barrages streaking by.

" _Imperial government officials within COMPNOR claim the video showing the bombardment is fake. The Caamasi delegation to the Imperial Senate has not been seen since this story began to circulate through underground channels. As you may know, the Caamasi Senator was detained last week for questioning after allegations of sedition surfaced," the reporter continued._

"Kel…" Cereen warned.

He was in shock as the footage of the burning atmosphere was repeated. Caamas was one of the oldest systems in the core, its people known throughout the galaxy as peaceful mediators and leaders of philosophical thought. And the Empire had just burned hundreds of millions of them alive.

"Kel!" Cereen shouted, pulling him towards her just as another glass was thrown in their direction. It struck Kel in the shoulder, spilling a thick nasty liquid across his back.

"Karking Imperial sleemo!" someone shouted.

"We have to get out of here!" Cereen shouted, her other hand covering her face as more drinks flew inbound.

She grabbed Kel by the shirt and began pulling him away from the bar when a large Rodian male blocked their path.

"Where are you going Imperials?" he shouted.

"Out of the way," Cereen snarled. The rodian reached out to grab her by the neck, but she smacked his hand away. She kick out with her left knee, landing the blow to the rodian's midsection. He collapsed in a heap as the air escaped his lungs.

Someone grabbed Kel from behind, their red forearm going around his throat. He was pulled backwards, despite trying to twist away.

"Get off me!" he shouted, desperately pushing backwards. He slammed the unknown non-human into the bar, knocking over one of the shockball fans.

The force of the impact released their grip, but he was promptly grabbed again, this time from the front.

He lashed out with a punch, but his newest attacker ducked underneath his fist with a flurry of blonde hair.

"Kel, it's me!" Cereen shouted.

He tried to apologize but couldn't get it out before the sound of blaster fire erupted from the front of the club. On reflex Kel and Cereen ducked, along with the angry patrons around them.

"It's the bouncers," Cereen said. "Come on." The got to their feet and pushed their way forward.

The fight had broken out of control, with not all of the patrons realizing the cause. Kel felt an enormous tug from his collar as his shirt was grabbed from behind, but he lowered his shoulders and pushed towards the door even harder. He could feel the fabric of his shirt stretch and begin to rip.

He heard an angry cry of pain ahead of him as Cereen was bowled off of her feet by a Weequay. It stood over her, lowering its knee onto her chest.

Kel launched himself furiously, slamming into the Weequay and tackling it to the ground. Kel didn't have the time or wherewithal to determine its gender as its elbow caught him in the face as they tumbled to the ground.

The Weequay hit the ground first but overpowered Kel and twisted him over until they reversed positions. It raised its fist, about to pummel Kel in the face, when a bright blue blaster bolt caught the alien in the chest. The stun shot transmitted into Kel, and for the third time in as many months, he blacked out.


	9. Chapter 8: Retrieval

The faint, tangy scent of garbage drifted into Kel's nostrils. The distant sounds of speeder traffic, intermixed with the incessant cries of a siren, intruded into his eardrums. He could feel the damp moisture of the air hanging onto his skin.

He opened his eyes, slowly at first. He remembered where he was, or rather where he ought to be. _The nightclub._

Kel tried to stand but wobbled dizzily until he was pushed back down.

"Woah, take it easy," someone said. He recognized the voice. _Cereen._

"What happened?" Kel asked, rubbing his forehead.

"You got knocked out, thats what happened."

"Again?"

"Yeah, the bouncers were targeting the guy on top of you, but I guess the energy transmitted."

"Where are we know?"

"Just outside the club," she answered. Kel realized there was city security personnel behind her. "I already took care of the questions. Apparently riots are breaking out all over the place."

"Because of Caamas?" Kel asked. "I still can't believe it."

"Yeah, because of Caamas," Cereen acknowledged grimly.

Cereen helped Kel to his feet, holding his hand and placing her other hand on his shoulder. Suddenly getting knocked out didn't seem so unfortunate.

The security personnel were wearing white riot gear, but their weapons, which consisted not only of blasters but also stun batons and riot shields, had mostly been holstered or put away. Two were speaking with the bouncers from the club, while a medic was treating a wounded ithorian. Kel noticed Cereen's face was swolen around her left eye. It appeared as if she had been treated for a nosebleed as well.

"Are you okay?" Kel asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, shrugging. "That was intense. I am sorry. Nothing like that has happened here before."

"You couldn't have known," Kel assured her. "Are we free to go?"

"Yeah, I used to work with the lieutenant over there. As soon as he saw me things calmed down."

They walked, albeit slowly and painfully, towards the exit of the alleyway and the red banner which hung between the buildings.

"Cereen, can I ask you something?" Kel began.

"Sure. I might even answer," she smiled.

"Do you think we work for the bad guys?"

She paused a long while before answering. "I think the galaxy is a lot more complicated than that."

Just as they were about to reach the exit of the alley they heard the loud screeching wail of a transport speeder. The air around them was pushed away as a military transport descended at the mouth of the alley.

It put down quickly, and as soon as it did so a squad of stormtroopers immediately jumped out. The stormtroopers ran forward, their e-11 blasters aiming straight at them. Four troopers spread out in front of them, while two others flanked them on either side.

"Hands up!" one of them shouted.

Kel glanced at Cereen, who looked as confused as he felt, and obeyed.

"You're a little late to the party," Kel smirked grimly.

oOoOo

Agent Dekai had not been idle since he had been left out of Lorne Krom's operation. He did not know beforehand that agent Krom's operation was doomed to failure, but he thought the odds of the operation succeeding in catching and destroying the _Hunter_ were low enough to warrant laying the groundwork for a backup plan.

Whereas Krom's operation consisted of a single brute force trap, Dekai decided to plan something a little more forward looking and adaptable. Rather than utilizing the forces of the Imperial navy to attempt safeguarding every trade route and every sensitive convoy, an impossible task, he would infiltrate the underground world of piracy.

Although the Empire reigned supreme throughout the galaxy, their intelligence networks outside of the more civilized sectors was woefully inadequate. The intelligence gathering capabilities of Imperial Intelligence and their Imperial Security rivals inside the civilian governments and corporations of the galaxy were fully mature, but those capabilities did not exist amongst the Hutt criminal empires, the Bounty Hunters Guild, and the various smuggling and illegal trade alliances. Dekai knew that the Emperor himself had powerful contacts amongst Black Sun, one of the oldest criminal organizations in the galaxy, but he had not shared those contacts amongst his spy agencies, as far as Dekai knew.

During the two weeks in which Krom's operation took form and was enacted out in the Maldrood sector, Dekai brought his favorite analyst, Si Nommon, under his direct authority. He had her catalogue every known shadow port and black market throughout the galaxy. He gathered intel on every known active pirate group, including their method of operation, where they sold their stolen goods, who the buyers were, etc. Armed with all of this information, Dekai went about planning his operation.

His planning was interrupted when his supervisor, Telranni Calder, called him up to his office. The room was darkened, with the holographic shades in Calder's sizable windows fully opaque.

"Boss," Dekai greeted when he arrived, tapping on the transparisteel wall that allowed Calder to keep watch on the office beyond.

"Come in, close the door behind you," Calder ordered. Dekai did so and then took a seat in a cushioned chair to the left of Calder's desk. "Agent Isard just reported in from Lantillies."

Calder pressed a button on his computer terminal and his holoprojector came to life.

"This is Agent Isard, reporting from the _Rabid Pursuit_ en route to the shipyards at Lantillies," Isard began. "Agent Krom's operation against _The Hunter_ is a complete failure. Probe droids detected pirate vessels in one of the target systems that matched the profile of the ships working with the _Hunter_ , although the Venator cruiser was not spotted with the other ships. Agent Krom made the decision to launch his attack. If the _Hunter_ failed to materialize he hoped to capture one of the other pirate vessels and interrogate the crew for intelligence. Somehow the pirate's were aware of our entry vector into the target system. They placed gravity bombs in the path of the _Rabid Pursuit_ , which had already launched its tie fighters. The mines caused serious damage, preventing the destroyer from directly engaging the pirates."

"The tie fighter squadrons initially showed signs of success against the pirates, however the _Hunter_ arrived in the system, launching reinforcements. The losses to the pirates were negligible, while the _Pursuit_ will require months of repairs, and lost every single tie fighter. Needless to say, the operation was a failure in every respect. Detailed sensor data is attached to this report."

The holoprojector winked out. Calder raised the lights in the room, and allowed the blacked out windows to clear. Warm afternoon sunlight entered the office, causing Dekai to wince before his eyes could adjust.

"I can't say I expected the operation to succeed, but I have to say, the magnitude of its failure is...amusing," Dekai said, smiling sarcastically.

"Amusing is not the word I would use," Calder retorted.

"How upset are the higher ups?" Dekai asked.

"Very. Not only did the operation fail, it appears as if the pirates knew what was coming. We knew there was a possibility that Moff Sawn was connected to the pirate attacks, but Imperial Security and the Navy took steps to avoid leaking anything. The fact that something appears to have leaked anyway is troubling."

"So how are we going to respond?"

"Rapidly. And with extreme prejudice. Fortunately for us, the Imperial Security Bureau, Agent Krom more specifically, along with the Imperial Navy as well, have taken the brunt of the embarrassment."

"That's the advantage to letting others take the lead," Dekai pointed out. "I'm sure you are aware of what I've been putting together."

"Yes, I'm aware of your plan. Infiltrate the criminal underground with a fake pirate group."

"It will take longer for results to materialize," Dekai acknowledged. "However, such an operation can be put to multiple uses, and its useful life will continue after the _Hunter_ has been dealt with. We have very few contacts amongst the underworld, and as far as I'm aware we have no covert teams operating in the outer rim territories."

"Some of our response teams work under the cover of private security firms, but those do tend to operate out of more secure worlds," Calder revealed.

"And my operation need not preclude Imperial Intelligence from undertaking parallel plans, either alone or with the Security Bureau."

"I ought to tell you," Calder began. "Security is eager to put something else into action. Moff Tarkin is pretty displeased with them at the moment. They are going to want in on whatever we put together."

"Put something else together for them. I don't need some amatuer screwing up my op," Dekai complained.

"That's not up to me," Calder said, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. "Just carry on with the planning phases, I will let you know when decisions are made."

"Will do," Dekai answered. He stood and nodded respectfully towards his superior and exited the office.

He walked down the corridor towards the turbolift at the center of the level when his comlink began to beep. He stopped before he reached the lift and retrieved it from his chest pocket.

"Yes, this is Agent Dekai," he answered.

"Agent Dekai, this is Operative Khol. You asked our office to inform you if anything came up regarding the recruit you referred to the agency. Kellen Pereth."

"Yes. And?" Dekai asked, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. _"I really don't have time for this,"_ he thought inwardly.

"He's been arrested for attempting to escape," Khol said.

Dekai closed his eyes and allowed himself to exhale, suppressing the flash of anger that was threatening to bubble out of him.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"He's being held at a remote location in the city, along with another recruit. An Intelligence safehouse over in the CoCo district."

"Fine, tell them I'm on my way," he ordered.

He got into the turbolift, as he had planned to do, but ordered it to bring him to the public lobby instead.

oOoOo

On his way out Dekai ordered two Imperial Intelligence security officers to join him as well, just in case. They met him on the landing pad next to an armored patrol speeder, a boxy craft with a vaguely aerodynamic cockpit and a short vertical stabilizer at the rear. They arrived at the location given to him in short order. The safe house was located near the middle levels of a residential tower located amidst the commercial district.

An open air landing pad provided access to what appeared to be a non-profit charity organization on the outside. Their speeder landed only long enough for Dekai and the two officers to disembark. Having numerous military grade speeder vehicles permanently parked outside would've given the organization's true purpose away.

They went through an automatic door and arrived inside a small lobby. An unassuming umbaran women stood behind the desk. Her pale skin and the dark shadows under her eyes gave her a sinister air, however she smiled as agent Dekai approached.

"Agent, we were informed of your arrival," she greeted politely.

"I'm here for the prisoners," Dekai informed her. She nodded and spoke into the comm unit in her desk, alerting the other personnel inside the safehouse.

"You're clear to enter," she said, motioning to an automatic door behind the desk. It opened as she did so. As Dekai and the two officers went through the door, Dekai glanced back at the umbaran, noticing a blaster pistol hidden behind the desk.

The corridor led into a lounge area, which had a kitchenette and a small entertainment center. Another security officer, wearing identical gear to the two who accompanied Dekai, was sitting in a cushioned recliner, watching a shockball game on the holoscreen. He had an E-11 blaster laying across his lap.

"I'm here for the prisoners," Dekai told the man, coming up from behind him. If the officer had been previously aware of their arrival he didn't show it.

"Down to the left," he said simply. On the other side of the lounge was a perpendicular corridor. Dekai took the left turn as the man told them.

Up ahead there were two doors, and Dekai recognized it as the standard layout for an interrogation room. One adjacent room for observation, the other for interrogating prisoners.

"Wait here," Dekai told his two companions. They nodded and stood in the hall across from the second doorway. Dekai scanned his identification badge through the security panel. The door to the interrogation chamber dutifully opened for him.

Inside the room there were a pair of male agents, wearing the formal grey uniforms of the agency, seated at a table. He didn't know them or recognize them, but guessed they worked in the Internal Organization Bureau, the division of Imperial Intelligence that operated as internal security. The two officers Dekai had brought with him worked in the same division.

Across from them Dekai recognized Kel Pereth, and a blonde woman who was probably three or four years older than the teenager Dekai had brought to Imperial Center just a few weeks prior. They both had bruises on various parts of their faces.

"You really expect us to believe it was a coincidence that you happened to be at a riot? You expect us to believe you weren't going to use the chaos to slip into the city?" one of the intelligence agents was asking. Nobody had noticed Dekai enter the room.

"Yeah, that's what we expect you to believe, how many times do we have to go over it?" Kel retorted.

"The security officers who responded at the scene can back up our story," the blonde woman said.

"We already talked with them," the agent said. "They only arrived after the fact. Other than them, the only witnesses are a bunch of non-humans. And it just so happens there is no recording equipment inside the club. So you have no hard evidence in your favor."

"May I interrupt?" Dekai asked. The two agents both jumped a little.

"Who're you?" one them asked, the taller of the two. He had the appearance of someone who enjoyed punching small animals for entertainment. Both of the agents stood up from their seats, as if preparing for a confrontation.

"Senior Agent Dekai, Renik division," Dekai announced. "I would relax, if I were you," he recommended.

"Why are you here?" the taller agent asked. "This is an internal organization matter."

"Step outside," Dekai ordered. The agents hadn't stated their ranks, which probably meant he was higher on the food chain.

"Don't either of you think about moving," the second agent growled at Kel and the woman as they followed Dekai out into the hall.

"What's the meaning of this?" the first agent asked.

"Give me a summary of what happened," Dekai ordered.

"We received an alert from headquarters. A restricted agent had disabled their tracking bracelet. We responded with a retrieval team at the location where the bracelet transmitted before going dark. We found the suspect, identified as Junior Attendant Kellen Pereth, accompanied by another Junior Attendant, Cereen Faye, outside of a nightclub in the Hirkenglade Prefecture district. They were both being detained by a team of local security personnel."

"How was his tracking bracelet disabled?" Dekai asked.

"He claims he was stunned by accident inside the club by the bouncers. There was a riot inside the club, a bunch of non-humans started trashing the place."

"Is that why they look beaten? Or did you do that?"

"No, they received their injuries before being apprehended. We haven't proceeded to enhanced interrogation techniques yet."

"What started the riot?"

"Apparently there is news circulating through the underground holonet. About the Caamas firestorm being caused by an Imperial fleet."

"There are riots breaking out all over the city," the second agent chimed in.

"So, let me get this straight. They were inside a nightclub when a riot broke out, during which both received injuries. Kel was stunned, which fried his tracking bracelet. An automatic alert went out, which you responded to. When you arrived on the scene did either of them attempt to flee? Or show resistance of any kind?"

"They were completely surrounded as soon our team spotted them," the tall one answered. "They couldn't have offered resistance if they had wanted to."

"Fine," Dekai shook his head. "Out of my way," he waved. The two agents parted, allowing him to reenter the interrogation room.

"You, were you attempting to escape Imperial Intelligence custody?" Dekai asked Kel.

"What? No, that's why I wore the bracelet in the first place," Kel answered.

"You. Were you trying to aid in his escape?" Dekai asked Cereen.

"Absolutely not," she answered.

"That's good enough for me," Dekai said. "Release them."

"What? You can't just release them like that. They're in our custody now," the tall agent yelled, his large hands curling into fists.

"I just did. If you have a problem with it, I'll make sure your next assignment is categorizing duracrete mold on the lowest level of Imperial City. I'm a senior agent and I just gave you an order. If you disobey I will have both of you shot."

"Fine, but we are still reporting this," the tall agent spat.

"No, you're not. If you have made preliminary reports already, delete them. If you need to account for your activities with the response team, report it as a training exercise."

The taller agent snarled before agreeing, reluctantly. He released the restraints, freeing both Kel and Cereen.

"Follow me," Dekai ordered the junior attendants. They did so, slowly and painfully.

"You both look like you need to visit a medcenter," Dekai commented as they walked back down the corridor towards the lounge.

"I think I should just live in a medcenter," Kel sighed. "Thanks for the save. I thought you had forgotten about me."

"I've been busy. But I read the reports that you had passed through recruitment. I would've gotten around to congratulating you eventually. But I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?" Dekai asked.

"I was trying," Kel answered.

"It is sort of my fault, sir. I was the one who convinced him to come out tonight," Cereen added.

"And you are?" Dekai asked as the passed through the lounge.

"Cereen Faye, Junior Attendant. We were in the same recruiting class."

"Ah, I see. What is your specialty?" Dekai asked.

"Sniper. I'm in Operations. Going to join a response team tomorrow. Don't know where yet," Cereen answered.

They went through the final corridor before arriving back at the front desk. It now appeared as dark as a night got on Imperial Center, diffuse city light shining through the lobbies' windows. The city lights were too bright and too numerous for it to get entirely dark. At least on the upper levels of the city.

"Escort them back to Imperial Intelligence headquarters," Dekai ordered the two security officers who had followed them back through the safehouse corridors.

"Report to the medcenter, both of you. Kel, when do you report for duty?" Dekai asked.

"Beginning of next week," Kel answered.

"Make it tomorrow. Or as soon as the medical staff will clear you. I'm going to need you to accelerate your training as much as possible."

"Well, I think I'm supposed to report to the Tech Section's ship and systems chief. I still don't know what I'm supposed to be doing down there."

"I know who you're talking about," Dekai affirmed. "I'll send him a message, so he will expect you. This is twice I've saved your neck. I expect quality work from you in return."

"Well, I promise I won't get arrested anymore this month," Kel said, laughing painfully.

Dekai signaled the speeder which he had arrived on minutes earlier. It had been circling not far from the tower, and within moments touched down on the pad.

Cereen and Kel boarded the ship, which promptly carried them off, flying swiftly towards the Imperial Palace District wherein Imperial Intelligence Headquarters was located.

Dekai walked over to the edge of the landing pad and sat, allowing his feet to dangle over the precipice. He pushed his anger at the stupidity of the internal organization team's away, focusing his thoughts. Below him the largest city in the galaxy carried on, the descent of night having little effect on its bustling activity.


	10. Chapter 9: The Floor

Kel glanced up at the floor indicator as he rode a turbolift through the bowels of Imperial Intelligence. The turbolift seemed to be picking up speed as he rode it deeper and deeper into the depths of the facility, much deeper than he had ventured thus far. He was dressed in his brand new uniform, the same formal grey number that agent Dekai often wore. After he had visited a stylist located on the base his formerly long brown hair was now cut short. He had even shaved this morning, although he didn't think it had strictly been necessary. He felt stiff, plagued by a familiar nervousness that he had previously experienced during holo-picture day, way back in primary school on Jappa.

Finally the turbolift seemed to slow, the passing floors whooshing by at a decelerating pace until the lift came to a stop. The doors opened and Kel stepped out onto to a concourse that was much more industrial than the floors he was accustomed to above.

Here the duracrete corridor was unadorned by decoration. The lights in the ceiling along the hall hung from metal chains, rather than being set in inlaid housings. The other side of the hall was open air, with thick support columns set every twenty five meters. Kel walked across the corridor until he reached the durasteel railing across from the lift, gaining a view of his surroundings.

Kel observed that the corridor in which he stood ran along the backside of a single cavernous room. The room stretched hundreds of meters into the distance, and appeared to be a cross between a factory and a space hangar. Enormous hangar doors were half open in the distance, allowing some natural light into the facility. It was abuzz with activity.

Kel looked out and noticed that the space along each wall was divided into dozens of sections by white paint upon the floor. Some sections were occupied by starships of various sizes and models, many of them in states of disassembly. Other sections were empty. Towards the middle of the room, arranged in one long row, were various manufacturing stations. Kel recognized some of their functions from his memories of the maintenance and refurbishment center that belonged to his father's company back on Jappa. He saw machines that could die cut and shape durasteel into hull plating. Machines that smelted scrap metal back into usable material. Others that could extrude metallic alloys into wire and cabling. And many others that he could not figure out from the distance.

There were large droids moving between the machines and the starship sections, the clanging of their metallic footpads ringing across the room with each step. They were not the cheap load lifter or construction droids common throughout the galaxy. These were state-of-the-art highly intelligent droids, equipped with multiple arms bearing welders, plasma torches, and crane-like vice grips.

Technicians wearing functional grey jumpsuits that would not be out of place in any civilian mechanic shop were milling about. Some of them were directing the droids, while others were doing more delicate work inside and underneath the various starships, which ranged in size from small transports to a small frigate, which was sitting near the front end of the floor, near the hangar doors.

Kel looked to his left, and realized that the corridor led to what appeared to be offices, which ran along the side of the wall. Huge transparisteel viewports allowed the support staff to overlook the facility. He he been ordered to report to the facility foreman, who held a supervisor's rank with Imperial Intelligence. He assumed he would be able to find him there.

Kel walked down the corridor, allowing himself time to take in all the activity going on. It was a little overwhelming, and he had to frequently tear his eyes away from the floor below to keep himself from walking into the support columns.

He passed a secretary droid, a black three-p-o model, who nodded politely in his direction. He neared the end of the corridor, which was set back a few meters into the left wall of the large room, forming a sort of dead end. The entrance to the office was located upon the short wall on the right.

Kel walked up to the door, which at first refused to open for him. Then he remembered his data badge, a small cylinder he wore upon the chest of his uniform. It contained the same identification information that one would find on an i.d badge. He removed the cylinder from his chest and held it near the data panel to the right of the door. A light buzz sounded from overhead and the door opened.

Kel stepped through the door to find himself inside a lobby. There were comfortable leather couches arranged along the wall around several sitting tables. An area in the back appeared to be a small kitchenette with a fully equipped stimcaf station. There were several officers around the station holding mugs and chatting amongst themselves.

Kel walked across the room and approached the men. "Hi, I'm looking for the supervisor. Huff, I think his name was?" Kel asked.

"Are you new?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, first day," Kel answered.

"Supervisor Huff is probably in the control room. Just keep going down the corridor. He's the one with the mustache."

"Right. Mustache," Kel repeated. He turned and noticed the corridor the officer had pointed to and followed it through a couple of office spaces. The third room had a thicker door, one that could be sealed from inside during an emergency. He went through it and found himself inside a room that was reminiscent of a bridge on a starship. There were huge viewport windows allowing a view of the hangar floor outside to his right. Three rows of computer terminals were behind the windows, and a handful of technicians were manning them.

Kel turned to his left and noticed a slightly overweight man with graying hair turned away from him who appeared to be examining a flimisplast printout over a wide table. An overhead holoprojector was firing the image of a medium transport with several sections cut out, allowing them to be examined.

Kel approached him from behind and cleared his throat.

The man jumped visibly, his right hand flying to where a blaster might have been if he were wearing one.

"Oh, sorry," Kel apologized. "I'm junior attendant Kellen Pereth. Reporting for duty." He held out his hand.

"What? Oh, its fine," the man said, declining to shake hands. "Supervisor Huff. Are you the new recruit?"

"Yeah, that's me," Kel confirmed.

"I was told you had an engineering background," Huff stated.

"Starship engineering. I worked in my father's shipping company, designing engines, components, and just generally tinkering. Or, you know, 'research'," Kel said.

"I haven't really looked at your files. Where did you graduate from?" Huff asked.

"Graduate? I haven't really attended university or anything."

Huff visibly gritted his teeth. "Right, who sent you here? I don't need some lackey looking over my shoulder."

"I was recruited by special agent Dekai. I don't report to anybody. I mean, I think I report to you."

"Hmm," Huff sighed. "Well, what can you tell me about this, without looking at the schematics," he said, motioning towards the holo of the transport floating above the table.

Kel glanced at the long vessel. It appeared similar to the type of corellian corvette that were common throughout the galaxy, but in miniature. "Umm, medium transport. I don't know what model, probably Corellian Engineering Corporation. Six sublight ion engines. Probably a class 2 hyperdrive. The cutout shows the power plant. Dual feedback model. I think there is something wrong with it."

"What's wrong with it?" Huff asked.

"The secondary intake is feeding directly to the power core and bypassing the filters," Kel pointed out. "The energy is going to be too intense and it could melt the power core. Maybe explode."

"That's the point," Huff said. He adjusted the computer inlaid into the table, causing the ship to fade away. "We have a new project and it involves engineering ships that will explode after a predetermined period of time. The sabotage is completely undetectable because there is no bomb. The ship's very engine is the bomb."

"Oh," Kel answered, growing uncomfortable. "But, it's not really undetectable though is it."

"What do you mean?"

"The ship's sensors would alert the crew that the engine is overheating and they would just shut it down."

"That's why we have replaced the sensors inside the engine with one's that feed the ship's computer with false readings."

"How can you guarantee an explosion though? There are other sensors in the fuel line. The engines would shut down and disable the ship but they might not explode. Unless you sabotage the fuel line sensors as well?"

"That's a possibility. In our tests we have had problems generating a consistent explosion that the destabilization division is happy with. Any suggestions"

"Well, you can't sabotage the fuel tanks because those could be inspected every time the ship refuels. And I don't think you should mess with the fuel line sensors because that could screw something up that you don't want, and then the crew will start checking the engine for problems. I don't know how these...destabilization...guys are planning on using this thing, but usually a crew is going to inspect the engine before they start flying it around. This feedback problem is one any decent mechanic would spot."

Huff seemed to be impressed with Kel's reasoning but there was also a hint of anger in his eyes. Kel felt he had just shot down this guy's brilliant plan.

"I don't think there is a suggestion in there," he frowned.

"Off the top of my head? Instead of bypassing the filter you could design a new magnet for the power core. Put in a control chip that goes off when you want it to and then shoot the ignited fuel straight into the core wall instead of towards the engine's feed line. You could angle it so that it hits something dangerous. There would be nothing for them to detect if they were inspecting the engine."

"Ah, well," Huff began. "Yes, I suppose that could work." He seemed irked that Kel had actually come up with something. "We'd have to test it though."

Kel decided that he shouldn't point out that it was obvious they would have to test it.

"Okay, I will look at your files and figure out where I want you," Huff said. "In the meantime I suppose you should get a tour of our facilities."

"I looked over the floor on my way over. Pretty impressive," Kel said.

"Yes. I'm not sure there is another hangar like it on an Imperial facility. We can work on over twenty ships at once and manufacture custom parts as needed. We can almost build ships completely from scratch." Huff lead Kel over to a computer terminal, pressing the comm button.

"This is Supervisor Huff, Senior Operative Van, please report to the control room," he said.

"I'll be right up," a female voice responded.

"Right, I have important work to do. Have operative Van give you a tour." With that Huff turned away from Kel and went back to the table below the holoprojector. He gathered a datapad and an empty stimcaf mug and promptly left the control room.

Kel shrugged, walked over to the viewport, and began observing the activity out on the floor below.

After a few minutes operative Van arrived. She entered the control from the back door, behind the holoprojector and table that Huff had been using earlier. Kel heard her footsteps approaching behind him as he watched the activity on the hangar floor and turned to greet her.

"Hi, you're Operative Van I'm assuming," Kel said.

"That's me," she said with a smile. She was a rather thin woman with her long red hair tied up in a bun and a datapad stylus pushed through it. She appeared to be in her early middle age, with a few wrinkles appearing on her face. She was wearing a mechanic's jumpsuit, rather than the formal uniform that Kel was wearing.

"Kellen Pereth, Junior Attendant," he held out his hand, and unlike Huff, she actually shook it. "Or Kel for short."

"Kel, nice to meet you," Van said. "First day?"

"Yeah, just met the supervisor a few minutes ago. He wanted you to give me a tour of the facility."

"Hmm," she said with a slight grimace. "Huff can be a bit jumpy. He ran a factory for KDY once. More of an administrator than an engineer, although I wouldn't say that to his face."

"Should you really talk about a superior behind his back like that?" Kel asked, remembering that the officers around here had had no qualms about asking him to shoot another recruit in the face.

"I'm friends with his boss, Chief Supervisor Armadi. Plus I've been around here longer than Huff. We have an understanding. I don't cause problems for him when things go wrong and he gives me a lot of free reign."

"So on the hierarchy its Armadi, Huff, and then you?" Kel asked.

"Pretty much. We have several people the same rank as me, you probably walked past a couple of them when you came in, but I have the most seniority. I'm mostly in charge of research. We have three operatives in charge of the floor, who alternate depending on the shift. One is in charge of logistics. We have a couple who work with the other departments as advisors."

"I see," Kel said.

"Well, let's start the tour," she said, motioning towards the back door. "I haven't looked at your file or anything. I'm assuming you're a brand new recruit, not a transfer from somewhere else."

"Yeah, I'm one hundred percent newbie," Kel confirmed, following her towards the door. The room behind it led to a turbolift, which they rode down a few levels. Kel guessed they were now on the same level as the hangar floor.

"Everyone starts somewhere. And you are actually starting a lot higher than most. Those techs in the control don't even have a rank yet, and they have credentials out their ears."

"My credentials are a little...weak."

"Really?" Van asked, a little suspicion creeping into her voice.

"No university background, I mean. I was preparing for university, but I got recruited by a field agent specifically for this place instead."

"So what training do you have? What can you do?" The first room they entered after exiting the lift was a small lobby. Kel quickly noticed a security guard sitting at a small desk near a corridor.

"This is our research level," Van announced, before Kel could answer her question.

"My father owns a shipping company on Jappa, second largest in the system, deliver all over the Maldrood sector. He has a pretty extensive maintenance and refurbishment center, so I kind of grew up on the shop floor, was always tinkering and playing with the equipment. I picked up stuff on my own, no formal training. I redesigned his fleet's hyperdrives when I was fourteen, made them faster and more efficient. I never had an official position in the company but I helped the chief engineer with pretty much everything."

"Wow, impressive," she said. "What actually got you noticed by an imperial spy?"

"Um, I'm not sure I'm allowed to get into details," Kel said with a shrug. "But basically, I was out test flying a prototype fighter I built out of old scrap yard parts and ended up arrested."

"What kind of fighter?" Van asked as they turned a corner in the corridor. To their right was a transparisteel viewport that gained them a view of what appeared to be a materials research lab. Several tables lay at the center of the room, upon which were microscopes, hot plates, and centrifuges. A tech with a datapad was taking notes, a holographic display projecting an image of a strange crystalline material. There were canisters of mysterious powders lining shelves along the walls of the room, and labeled bins that looked to contain samples of various types of minerals. "This is one of our research labs," Van said, confirming the obvious. "Alloy research, mostly."

"It was an ugly, various parts. Cockpit and body of an arc-170 melded to some novaldex thrusters."

"Novaldex? Aren't those light freighter engines?"

"Yeah. Pretty overpowered when they are only pushing a fighter though."

"How could an arc-170 power engines that big?"

"I designed my own power supply. I modeled it after the one that runs tie fighters. They are insanely powerful for their size. I scaled it up a bit."

"I thought the tie fighter specs were still classified?"

"The specifics are. But the tie fighter's engines are based off of the clone wars era v-wing, and I found a scrapped one to use as a reference. I just made the necessary changes to update it. Not too hard to figure out the changes Sienar made when he designed the tie fighter, based on the performance you get out of them."

"You copied the most advanced component in the galaxy? Off of speculation and fifteen year old scrap?"

"Pretty much," Kel said.

"Okay, you might be useful around here," Van admitted. She took him through the rest of the research floor. There were chambers that could be used to test fire engines. Rooms with enormous holoprojectors that filled the entire space inside them, allowing an engineer to examine parts up close and in three dimensions. The most interesting room, for Kel, was a storage room. Not the room itself, but what was inside.

"So, this place we refer to as the 'scrap bin'," Van announced. The scrap bin was a long cavernous room with rows and rows of shelving. Each row of shelves contained bins upon bins of starship parts, arranged based on function and age. "Want to see our most valuable piece?"

"Of course," Kel answered. Van led him past the center row of shelving and all the way towards the back of the room. The shelf along the back wall was made of durasteel, and each section had a keypad preventing anyone who was not authorized from removing anything.

Van pressed a code into the keypad on the centermost shelving unit. She opened the door and stepped aside.

"What is that?" Kel asked. It was very rare that he did not know what a part did, even if he couldn't recognize its specific model.

"That, is an ancient sith power unit," Van said proudly. "Donated to the facility by the Emperor himself." The device was about as large as Kel's torso, was obsidian black, and didn't seem to be made out of metal at all. Kel examined it closely and then frowned.

"I don't get it. I see the ports that would lead to engines. But there is no intake. Where does the fuel go in at?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." The device was shaped like a cylinder. The ports Kel had noticed were in the back, and he could have fit his fist inside each one. He guessed it had probably powered a small freighter sized ship. The cylinder had a hollow spherical cavity in the front, with what seemed like a receptacle in the bottom of the hole. "There is actually a bounty on this thing."

"What do you mean?"

"The director of intelligence himself has posted a reward of a half million credits to anyone who can figure out how to get it working."

"I'm guessing this is everyone's side project?"

"Yeah. For a while anyway. Everyone gives up on it eventually."

Van closed the storage compartment and sealed the device away. They exited the research department, travelling along the same main corridor, until they arrived at a security station.

The officer guarding the door glanced up at them and then opened a thick blast door. Immediately the quiet of the research department was invaded by the loud cacophony of the hangar floor.

"If you've been on a shop floor for years like you've claimed this should be pretty familiar," Van said, having to yell for Kel to hear her over the noise.

They were near the center of the hangar, and the blast door that lead to the research department was located directly underneath the control room, a few floors above them. Kel glanced to his right and spotted the railing from where he had first observed the floor, earlier in the morning.

Van led along the wall until they arrived at a small personnel station. A technician wearing a worker's helmet was sitting at a desk. Behind her were storage bins containing more helmets, as well as other safety equipment. Van retrieved one of the helmets and placed it on her head, and Kel followed suit.

As soon as he placed the helmet on his head the noise on the floor was reduced to a tolerable level. Van held up her hand, showing him four fingers. Kel understood that she meant channel four.

He found the controls on the side of his helmet. When he pressed the communicator button a little hologram was projected in front of his face. It displayed several settings, including how much noise he wanted the helmet to shield him from, the volume of the comm inside his helmet, and what channel he was communicating on. He adjusted it until he arrived on channel four.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear," Van confirmed. She led him around the hangar, explaining the work that was going on. On some ships they were making small adjustments, such as installing secret compartments that agents could use to hide their military gear. On others they were replacing the hull plating with military grade armor, and then using equipment to make the new hull plating look old and worn, even though it wasn't. On the small frigate, a civilian sorosuub model that was often used as either a transport or a yacht, depending on the owner's wealth and the number of passengers desired, the construction droids were installing hidden turbolaser turrets.

"All of the modifications are custom designed in-house to maintain the integrity of our security. Outsourcing the work, even to authorized Imperial manufacturers such as Sienar Flight Systems, could blow our field agent's cover," Van explained.

It took them about thirty minutes to make their way around the entire hangar floor. Kel felt free to ask questions of Van. She did not possess the attitude that intimidated him with so many of the personnel at Imperial Intelligence, including agent Dekai. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was, but he felt that Van was here because of the engineering work, and not to move into positions of great power or prestige within the Empire. He didn't get the feeling that she was particularly political or fanatical about the Empire's New Order.

They completed the tour when they arrived back at the safety equipment station they had initially entered the floor through. They removed their helmets and quickly retreated back into the research level and away from the deafening noise.

"So, impressed?" Van asked.

"Yeah, I actually am. I really didn't know what to expect, but this facility is incredible," Kel said.

"We get a pretty big budget, since so much of Imperial Intelligence relies on our work. Excepting the weapons research lab, and the Sector Plexus data center, we are probably the most well equipped division."

"So, what now?" Kel asked, wiping some of the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead underneath his helmet.

"Well, I don't think you have been assigned any duties yet by Supervisor Huff," Van said. She checked her wrist chronometer. "It's almost lunch. After that I need to check in with my research teams, read through their reports with them. Boring stuff. You could take the rest of the day off if you want."

Kel didn't need a good excuse to avoid meetings, but he was glad she had given him one. "Alright, I think I'll do that. Uh, should I continue wearing the officer's uniform, or switch to a jumpsuit like yours?"

"Hmm," Van thought out loud. "Until you find out what Huff has in mind for you I would stick to the formal wear."

"Okay, thanks for advice. And thank you for the tour."

"You're welcome junior attendant. I hope you are assigned to me, I'm excited to see what you can do."

"Looking forward to it," Kel said. They parted, with Van turning down a corridor she had not taken him down.

Kel remembered their route through the research division and began to walk back towards the turbolift. He was mildly excited now, for the first time since arriving at Imperial Intelligence. For the first time he felt he actually knew what he might be doing here. And that there was a decent chance they wouldn't change their minds and shoot him.


	11. Chapter 10: The Second Son

**Chapter 10**

After being lifted from the custody of those overzealous agents, and after saying farewell to Kel, Cereen gathered her belongings. They didn't consist of much. Her Imperial Intelligence uniform and some civilian clothes gathered together in a knapsack, a datapad, and her sniper rifle, which was disassembled inside of a padded carrying case.

She reported for duty at a secluded landing pad in the back of the massive Imperial Intelligence headquarters. This pad lay in the shadows of the nearby city blocks, away from the public eye. A single transport, the standard tri-fold wing _Lambda_ -class, sat waiting.

She wore a black leather jacket, with the Imperial logo emblazoned on the outside of the chest pocket. Her knapsack slung over her shoulder, carrying her rifle case in one hand and the datapad containing her itinerary in the other she walked onto the landing pad to find an Imperial Navy officer, a lieutenant, standing outside of the transport's loading ramp.

Cereen approached him, raising a salute with the datapad still in her hand. "Cereen Faye, Junior Attendant, reporting for duty."

The lieutenant looked her over, slower than she would have preferred. She resisted the urge to clock him with her datapad. "Stow your gear Attendant. We lift off in five minutes."

The cargo bay of the transport was filled with various generic looking metallic boxes. Aurebesh codes, located underneath a white Imperial logo, marked each box's destination. From what Faye could tell they each one was bound for a different part of the galaxy. _This transport must really get around_ , she thought to herself.

She walked through the transport until she reached the passenger section. It was completely empty. She stowed her knapsack underneath a chair and strapped her rifle case into a storage rack. She could hear the pilot and copilot making small talk in the forward section.

She sat in the chair next to her knapsack and waited casually, sitting so that she could put her leg up over the armrest of the next chair over. It wasn't long before she heard the hissing sound of hydraulics as the loading ramp closed, followed by the sound of the lieutenant's footsteps.

The lieutenant passed her by and spoke to the pilot, informing him he was ready to lift off. Then he turned to her and cleared his throat.

"We are lifting off. Please assume a proper flight ready position," he ordered. Cereen glanced up at him. It appeared as if he intended to sit next to her.

"I'm good. And this seat is taken," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Excuse me?"

"Unless you want me to show you how far your arm can bend behind your back, I would sit somewhere else."

"How dare you," the lieutenant raised his voice. The pilot and co-pilot turned in their seats at the sound of the confrontation. "I am a superior officer, and I order you…"

"You are a Navy officer. I'm Imperial Intelligence. And your orders are to take me up the Corellian Run and drop me off at Druckenwell station. After I get off this transport I will never encounter you again. So I'm not interested."

"I…" the lieutenant looked back at the cockpit, where the two flight officers were staring at him, waiting for his reaction. "Just lift off!" he snarled.

The pilot gave out a small chuckle as he fired up the ship's engines. Soon enough they were off, and Cereen was able to enjoy the twelve and a half hour flight in near silence. She happily slept through most of it.

She was awoken by the copilot, who leaned over her and loudly announced that they were about to drop out of hyperspace in the Druckenwell system. She yawned while the dream she been experiencing, in which she had been stuck in a completely empty Imperial City, faded quickly from her memory. She glanced around and discovered that the lieutenant was still sulking by himself in the back of the passenger compartment.

The transport entered realspace, the green orb of Druckenwell below them. The system lay at the intersection of two major hyperspace lanes, the Corellian Run and the Reena Trade Route, the latter of which ended at Bothawui. But the pilot did not fly towards the planet. Instead he flew into a high orbit while his co-pilot hailed the Imperial space station they were bound for and transmitted his clearance codes.

"Imperial shuttle _Oridium,_ you are cleared for approach," came a voice over the comm. Cereen left her seat and hovered behind the co-pilot, gaining a good view. Half an orbit and only a couple minutes later the station came into view. Druckenwell Station had been built after the end of the Clone Wars, and it allowed a permanent Imperial presence over this important intersection of trade routes, freeing up the need to keep any Star Destroyers tied up in the system.

"Is that a moon?" Cereen asked.

"A very small one," the pilot answered. "From the surface it just looks like a very bright star." The northern and southern polar regions of the moon were left bare, and the station mostly consisted of a huge built up ring around the equator. As they grew closer Cereen noticed smaller structures dotting the rest of the surface, and it took her a moment to realize they were turbolaser towers. Each one was the size of a city block back on Imperial Center.

They flew towards the equator, which contained hangar facilities every forty five degrees around the axis of the moon. A Victory-class Star Destroyer, an older and smaller version of the more common Imperial-class, was parked between the hangar they steered towards and the next hangar over.

The co-pilot noticed her staring at it. "The station also serves as a replenishment facility for the destroyers." Soon the hangar ahead of them swallowed up their view and they came in for a landing. She left the forward section behind and went back to the passenger compartment. She retrieved the carrying case for her rifle first, and then slipped the strap of her knapsack over her shoulder. She glanced towards the back of the ship and realized the lieutenant was already standing by the loading ramp.

She walked back to him as they landed, her body swaying a bit as she adjusted to the change in gravity. As soon as the transport's landing pads touched the surface of the hangar its artificial gravity generators shut down, yielding to those of the station. She stood next to the lieutenant and waited for him to lower the ramp. They couldn't have stood next to each other for more than a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity. As soon the ramp finally lowered, its hydraulic systems hissing water vapor, she walked quickly off the transport and didn't look back.

Cereen examined her orders on her datapad which said nothing more than disembark the transport and wait. The lieutenant walked by her and spoke to the hangar chief, who directed load lifter droids to begin unloading the appropriate metal boxes from the transport's cargo bay. She was watching this activity when she heard a voice shout out at her from behind.

"You there, hey," the voice repeated. Cereen turned round to find a man approaching with an olive skin tone and wearing an Imperial Intelligence uniform. The man had the look of a former boxer. Thick muscular arms and broad shoulders. A nose that looked like it had been broken several times. Medical technology easily allowed medcenters to reset broken noses to their original position, no matter how severe the break, so the crooked nose was an aesthetic choice. He wanted people to know it had been broken.

"Are you the new recruit?" he asked as he neared her.

"Aye," Cereen answered, giving him a salute. She did it properly this time. "Junior Attendant Cereen Faye, reporting for duty, sir."

"Alright, I'm glad you're on time," he said. "I'm Senior Operative Kolija." He held out his hand. Cereen shook it, his grip as firm as she imagined it would be. "Follow me."

He led the way out of the hangar. Cereen noticed he was sweating. Not the kind of sweat one would work up after exercise. More like a nervous sweat.

"I don't really have time to give you a proper introduction to my team. It's probably not ideal for you start your first mission like this, but we don't have a choice."

"Some kind of emergency?" Cereen asked.

"Not exactly," Kolija sighed. They left the hangar behind and began walking through a main corridor, which looked exactly like the corridor on any large Imperial installation or ship. Apparently there was not a huge amount of variety in Imperial architectural planning. "Usually our operations are planned out weeks in advance. This one came up all of a sudden. An Inquisitor requested a team for backup."

"A what?"

Kolija stopped and looked her over. Not as the lieutenant had done before. He was attempting to ascertain her mettle. "You've never heard of them? Inquisitors are from a special branch of Intelligence. They operate on their own. And they don't exactly advertise their existence, clearly."

"So...what do they do?"

"They do whatever they want. Well, nearly," Kolija answered. "Just be on top of your game when dealing them. And do whatever they ask, at all times. I can't stress that enough."

Cereen nodded that she understood. Kolija clearly was ambivalent that she really did, but he moved on. They travelled through the station at a pretty quick pace until they arrived at a barracks facility, which was marked by a pair of stormtrooper guards and a heavy blast door. The stormtroopers didn't acknowledge them as they passed through.

On the other side of the blast doors Cereen found herself inside a room that was eerily similar to the dormitory she had stayed in back at Imperial Intelligence headquarters. The sense of deja vu almost made her feel as if the last twelve and a half hours had never transpired. She could have gone to sleep in the dormitory on Imperial Center and woke up in this one and not have noticed the difference.

One thing was that was different, however, were the men and women who occupied the room. There were eleven of them, ranging in age from only a little older than herself to middle aged. She caught her breath when she realized that one of the oldest wore one of the most famous faces in the galaxy, that of a clone of Jango Fett.

"Right, everyone, at attention," Kolija said, raising his voice and interrupting the various conversations happening around the room. Everyone stood as he spoke, but they all looked at Cereen. "This is our new recruit, Cereen Faye, straight from headquarters," he announced.

She didn't know what else to do so she gave a smart salute.

"She's not very big," the clone said with a smile.

"I don't think Kolija brought her in for her size," a woman near the back with short black hair and a scar across her forehead said.

"I think he brought her in for the thing inside that case," said another.

"No," said Cereen with a shake of her head. "He could get a rifle anywhere. He brought me in because I can shoot anything I can see with it."

The clone laughed heartily. "I like her already."

"We don't have time for introductions," Kolija warned. "The…"

Behind him the the blast doors opened. Cereen had not been aware of a huge temperature difference between the barracks and the corridor beyond, but she felt a slight chill. Everyone in the room stiffened, now adopting an actual stance of attention, and not the casual one that Kolija had brought them to.

Kolija and Cereen both turned, finding a figure standing behind them unlike any Cereen had ever seen before. The man was over a foot taller than Cereen, and thin. He wore dark black armor, and a helmet that obscured his face. She couldn't tell where his gaze was directed, but somehow she guessed that it was fixed on her. She knew immediately that this was the Inquisitor Kolija had warned her about.

"This is the Sector 34 response team?" the man asked. His helmet filtered his voice, giving it an odd robotic tinge. Even through that, Cereen could sense his strong core-worlds accent.

"Yes sir," Kolija answered.

The man stepped closer to Cereen. She no longer had to guess that he was appraising her. "New recruit?"

"Yes sir," Cereen answered, keeping her voice strong and militaristic.

"You aren't going to ruin this operation." It wasn't a question.

"No sir," she affirmed. He seemed satisfied with her, for he walked past her and looked over the rest of the recruits in the room. His attention lingered on the old clone longer than the others. Kolija and Cereen turned back around, so that they were once again facing in the Inquisitors direction.

"I...am The Second Son," he announced. "This operation will take us to Bothawui, the third moon, to be exact." He walked around the room, continuing to gaze at each member of the team in turn. He pronounced each word he spoke with careful precision. "On this moon there is a collector. He has been gathering artifacts that are of interest to the Emperor."

Cereen took note that the Inquisitor had said _Emperor,_ not Empire.

"This collector, this bothan, would destroy his collection if he knew we were coming. Hence, a strike team such as yourselves, and not a destroyer full of clumsy fools."

He passed by Cereen once again. He didn't linger on her as long as the first time, but at his closest proximity she once again felt a chill in the air.

He stopped his route around the room and stood in the middle of the group. "I've already ordered the required materials needed for the mission. Your ship will be ready within the hour. You will be able to review intelligence and the mission parameters en route."

"Will you not be joining us?" Kolija asked, his voice full of respectful acquiescence.

"Don't worry about me, Operative," the Second Son answered snidely. "After you achieve your primary objective, the capture of the bothan, you will signal me. I will already be in the system. I want him _alive_."

There were no further questions. With one final look across the room, the Inquisitor left. The sigh of relief that echoed throughout the barracks after his departure was audible.

oOoOo

Ysanne Isard's office was located in the higher levels of Imperial Intelligence, where the facility began to stretch upwards just like all the other civilian towers in the skyline. If it wasn't located so close to the Imperial Palace its architecture might have been remarkable. But the logic of an agency that lived in the shadows literally being housed in the shadow of the Imperial Palace made a certain amount of sense to the young intelligence agent.

Isard only held a Special Agent rank, which was midlevel at best, so her spacious and stylish office mismatched her position entirely. She was the director's daughter, however, and even though she didn't like to use that to her advantage, as she felt that was beneath her, utilizing that relationship to gain accommodations where she could spread out and work freely was essential. Her office was the twice the size of an average middle class apartment on Imperial Center. The carpeting was a deep regal blue, sourced from Alderaan. A kitchenette set up against one wall featured a fully functional cooking surface. The private refresher adjoining the room had a full bath and relaxation pool. Her desk was made from the finest correllian mahogany, and it was so wide and long she couldn't reach either end of it, even if she stretched out completely. A full holoprojector was set in the ceiling above the desk. And behind the desk a large floor to ceiling viewport.

Isard sat upon the desk, her legs crossed, a datapad held in her lap. She was thumbing through some of the sabotage and assassination projects under development in the tech departments downstairs. Isard was eager to spearhead an operation of her own to entangle this rogue pirate captain that was causing so much discernation amongst the highest levels of the Imperial military. Being on hand to witness the crashing and burning of that arrogant ISB agent's operation caused her a certain amount of satisfaction. And her success where he had failed would be one more step on her way to greatness. But she had to make sure could guarantee success.

She remembered back to the meeting with the Executive Director a couple weeks prior and that Special Agent named Dekai who had spoken. She had never met him before, but she remembered being intrigued. She brought up his personnel file on her datapad. The file was supposed to be closed to her, but she knew a back door her father used to get into any file that wasn't classified higher than top secret. She was more than a little disgusted that her father chose to use her dead mother's name as the password. She wasn't disgusted out of sentimental reasons, of course. It was simply too easy to guess, and she found the private display of mourning a little pathetic.

Dekai's record showed a low-key but successful career. Mostly intelligence gathering operations and investigations for the higher ups. He lacked ambition, as far as Isard was concerned. Curiously his personal information was extremely light on details. No family name. No age listed. No homeworld. For such details to be omitted meant he either had a very top secret past, so secret it was not listed, or the information had been deleted. She placed this mystery in the back of her mind, endeavoring to investigate at a later date.

She opened up his report on the Governor of Jappa and Moff Sawn. Dekai lacked hard evidence that those two were involved in the piracy plot, but the coincidental evidence was damning. But for some reason she doubted those two really had the connections to breach the security of I.S.B agent Lorne Krom's previous operation. She copied Dekai's report and his file onto her own private databank server, deciding to keep it in her back pocket.

She opened Dekai's most recent activity report. He had been compiling a catalogue of pirate activity, all over the galaxy. None of it seemed to be related. And then she realized he wasn't just learning about the pirates themselves. He was learning who they sold to, where they made port, where they got their ships. He had been working with an analyst, someone named Si Nommon, who had helped him design an algorithm that went through holonet reports, digging up reports and flagging them for later reference.

At first Isard had thought Dekai beneath her. She found his apparent lack of ambition a little sad. Now she understood. He preferred to let people like I.S.B Agent Krom crash and burn, while he worked from the shadows. He was not impatient. He didn't need his name stamped on a holoboard. And when he did act, he would be sure to understand and control as many variables as possible.

Ysanne smiled. She would help him.


	12. Chapter 11: The Third Moon

**Chapter 11**

The loud noise of the hangar floor reverberated softly through a transparisteel window, behind which Kel sat stationed at a computer terminal, absent-mindedly thumbing through technical reports. Life had been completely boring since receiving his assignment from Supervisor Huff three days prior. He still had not been cleared to leave the facility. In addition to his increasing sense of confinement, the department Chief had apparently been insulted at Kel's ideas in regards to his ship sabotage program, and decided to give him nothing but busy-work. The reports he examined included results of research from Senior Operative Van's division, which he double checked for math errors. Others were logistical reports, which looked at how much raw material the facility was running through. The only actual decision he had made, switching from expensive durasteel from Kuat to much cheaper recycled durasteel from Imperial Center, and then running that metal through their smelters to reduce the impurities, had been overruled by Huff. Nevermind it would save them over two hundred thousand credits a month. Kel remembered that Huff had been a former Kuat Drive Yard employee. The possibility he was being paid under the table to purchase Kuati durasteel didn't escape Kel's imagination.

He had sent Van a text holo-message about his idea, to which she had responded with "Great idea. I will propose next meeting with C. Supervisor Mison, go over Huff's head. Don't worry about it." Kel only wondered if his idea wouldn't be passed off as her own.

Kel was about to sign off his terminal and head downstairs to examine that curious Sith artifact when Chief Huff entered the control room. He was flanked by two other officers, one of which Kel immediately recognized. Agent Dekai.

"...the program is developing well," Huff was saying. "The trigger mechanism is completely undetectable, and you can send it through holonet relay. No detection possible."

"If we can piggyback the holonet subroutines we could detonate the target as soon as they access the holonet, no matter where they are in the galaxy. Correct?" the female agent asked. Kel was taken aback by her long red hair, and the single strand of white she had combed behind her ear. More remarkable than that were her eyes. One fiery red, the other icy blue.

"That is exactly right," Huff nodded.

"There is signal degradation each time a message passes through a relay," Dekai pointed out. Despite his recent trip to Jappa to inspect their holonet relay being a cover, he had actually studied up on how the holonet worked. "If the target actually was on the other side of the galaxy, the signal strength might not be sufficient to trigger the detonation."

"Well...we haven't had a chance to field test it yet," Huff shrugged. He brought up a holo on his projector and began explaining the details to Isard. It was the same design that Kel had poked holes in on his first day, with none of the changes he had suggested.

Dekai noticed Kel and subtly stepped across the room, ignoring Huff as he explained the design to Isard.

"So, how is my recruit doing?" Dekai asked, smirking slightly. He could sense Kel's frustration, despite his attempt to hide it.

Kel leaned back in his seat, looking past Dekai to Huff.

"You can speak freely," Dekai added.

"Honestly, I haven't done anything. Busy work, mostly," Kel revealed.

"Really?" Dekai asked. "I would've thought you would at least be working in design, if not research."

"He got mad when I pointed out some flaws in his engine sabotage program," Kel said, being careful to keep his voice at a low volume so his criticisms wouldn't carry across the room.

"Hmmm," Dekai responded. "Will the sabotage program work as advertised?

"Probably not outside of a lab," Kel answered, tapping his fingers on the computer terminal nervously.

"Good," Dekai nodded subtly. "Keep quiet about it," he whispered.

Completely taken aback, Kel wasn't sure how to respond.

"Agent Dekai, would you like see recordings of the explosions," Huff called from across the room. Isard noticed that her counterpart had wandered away, and cast an appraising look at Kel.

"I always like a good explosion," Dekai answered back, before turning to Kel. "Shelve your fixes for now, and maybe I can get you that off-facility housing request of yours approved," he whispered. Dekai returned to Chief Huff's projector table as an image of a ship inside of a blast chamber appeared.

Kel turned his focus back to his computer terminal and tried to ignore the conversation going on behind him. He had trouble comprehending an order NOT to fix a problem, but he decided to play along anyway.

oOoOo

Cereen tightened her grip on the overhead handle to which she clinged as their transport dropped out of hyperspace. She glanced at the rest of her squad through the red lighting that filled the cargo bay of their lambda-class transport. True to his instructions the Inquisitor had given them, Cereen and the rest of the response team had geared up and boarded a transport within the hour of their impromptu briefing.

Cereen was wearing blue commando armor, which Imperial Intelligence had apparently borrowed from their I.S.B rival. She wore a modified version of an Imperial scout troopers helmet upon her head. The rest of her squad, excepting Kolija, who wore armor similar to her own, were wearing modified stormtrooper armor. They wore black aurebesh "I.I" markings on their breastplates, reinforced air-filters on their helmets, and carried the heavy duty dlt-20a blaster rifle instead of the smaller, standard issue, e-11 blaster often carried by stormtroopers. Cereen had her x-45 sniper rifle slung over her shoulder.

"Five minutes to insertion," came the voice of the transport's navigator over her comm unit. Because of the short notice of the mission, Kolija had been forced to give them their full briefing after they were already underway on the transport. They were heading to the third moon of Bothawui, which was just barely large enough to support a thin atmosphere. The atmosphere was substantial enough that they did not require full vacuum gear, but did necessitate the oxygen breathers the squad wore. Their target was a famous Bothan by the name of Mav Ava'rya, a wealthy businessman and philanthropist who owned a private compound on the surface of the moon. Mav owned several influential museums across the galaxy and had apparently gained the Empire's notice after dealing in illegal Jedi artifacts. Cereen didn't understand why dealing in contraband deserved a response from one of the Empire's most elite response teams, but she felt that he must have done something to deserve their attention.

"Are you ready newbie?" she heard someone ask. She turned to her right, where the former clone trooper RR-1738 stood next to her. The squad referred to him as 'R's' for short.

"I'm ready," she said, visibly nodding her helmet forward. It felt a little bizarre to be serving next to one of the Clones, whom she had seen in countless wartime holos fighting the separatist droid armies. R's must have been skilled indeed to have stuck around so long after many of his contemporaries had been retired.

"Good," R's answered in his mandalorian drawl. "Show us what you can do kid."

The red overhead light filling the transport suddenly turned green. Cereen felt the transport touchdown on the surface, and waited for the momentary disorientation of the transports artificial-gravity generators giving way to that of the moon's to pass. The ramp to the transport dropped open and the squad quickly filed out, with Cereen and Kolija taking up the rear.

The surface of the moon was covered in soft bluish-grey dirt. Little clouds of regolith would puff up with each step. Cereen glanced upwards. The brightness of the moon's surface rendered the stars invisible. The squad quickly ran along a small gulley. Coral-like bushes, seemingly representing every color of the rainbow, obscured them from view.

The squad hit the dirt at the top of a small hill. Cereen did likewise, falling to the ground to the left of the rest of the group. She inched forward until the valley in which Mav's compound was situated became visible. The compound was almost a fortress, consisting of several conjoined buildings surrounding a central landing pad. A single tower rose from the largest of the buildings, commanding an impressive view of the valley. A collection of communication antennae rose from the top of the tower like a crown.

A single bridge crossed the deep canyon that lay at the center of the valley, connecting the compound to the foothills in which the squad hid. Cereen peered through her scope, moving her sights along the roofs of the lower buildings.

"I got five sentries on the roof, one on each side, and the last at a control panel near the bridge," Cereen said, informing the rest of the squad. "The fifth looks like a merc, the rest are droids. They have security turrets pointed at the bridge."

"Clankers…" R's said. She couldn't tell if he was happy about it or not.

"Alright," Kolija responded. "Keep the organic in your sights. I'll stay with Junior Attendant Faye, the rest of you move along the hills to the south. We'll signal when you can rappel across the gap."

The rest of the squad crawled backwards down the side of the hill and then took off through the coral-brush. Kolija remained at her side, peering through his macrobinoculars at the compound. A few minutes passed in silence between them as Cereen kept her sights on her target.

"We have a transport coming in," Kolija warned. Cereen removed her focus from her sights just as the bright engine flare of a civilian medium freighter descended towards the compound, avoiding becoming blinded.

"We're in position," came the voice of R's over their secured comm. channel.

"Tell them to cross now, the security detail are all focused on the transport," Cereen recommended.

"Good call," Kolija agreed. "Forward team, rappel across the gap now." Cereen resisted the urge to move her scope and observe the others as they moved across the canyon.

A small group of individuals emerged from the back of the transport. Two of them were human, one male, one female. The other was taller, had dark blue skin, and was completely bald. All three of them wore breathers.

"Hangar door is opening up," Kolija observed. Cereen averted her gaze for a moment, focusing in on the large blast door that was opening up at the other end of the landing pad. She zoomed in as a bothan, flanked by two droids, emerged.

"Target spotted," Cereen informed the team over her comm.

"Let him be," Kolija warned. "Team, what's your status?"

"Moving into position," R's answered. According to their plans the others should have been moving along the southern wall of the compound. One of them was equipped with a plasma torch, with which they would cut their way through. If the blueprints of the facility they had observed in their briefing were correct, they ought to emerge in a side corridor that led into the facility's warehouse. Cereen was unable to check on their status, focused as she was on the landing pad. "And we are in."

"Take them out," Kolija said.

Cereen responded immediately. Her first shot struck the organic guard as he leaned over his railing observing the meeting between Mav and his guests. The powerful bolt hit the man in the back, blowing apart his chest cavity in cloud of red gore. His body tumbled over the railing.

Before the guard's body struck the ground Cereen was already sighting in on her next target. The white and black security droid on the eastern wall of the compound had not even realized his commander was down when Cereen buried a shot into its powerpack. It exploded in a shower of metallic shrapnel. Finally the compound seemed to realize they were under attack.

Bright warning lights began flashing around the compound. If she were within hearing distance Cereen was sure she would have heard alarm klaxon's blaring. Mav was looking around the walls of his facility in alarm, apparently in a state of shock. One of the security droids flanking the bothan grabbed him around the arm and began hauling him towards the entrance to the hangar. Following suit, the three new arrivals began running towards the blast doors as well.

Cereen ignored them. She buried another shot into one of the security droids, which was looking helplessly around for the source of the attack. Her fourth target was running in her direction, its droid brain finally ascertaining her direction from after her shot had struck the other droid. She placed her cross-hairs over its chest and pulled the trigger on her rifle. It exploded as the shot buried into its chest, metal chunks raining down the walls.

The final security droid had its blaster carbine raised in their direction and managed to get a shot off before Cereen settled her sights on it. Hopelessly out of range, the droid's shot succeeded only in blasting apart a coral bush hundreds of yards below them. Cereen fired, hitting it in the head. Instead of exploding like the others had, it tumbled over backwards, disappearing behind the far wall of the compound.

"Nice work," Kolija commended. "Five shots, five kills."

"These blaster rounds are too expensive to miss with," Cereen responded, smiling underneath her helmet. _So far so good._

"Let's bounce," Kolija ordered. Cereen stiffly got to her knees before getting into a standing position. The rough surface of the moon had not been kind to her abs, although she had completely ignored any discomfort while her attention was downrange.

She shouldered her rifle and followed Kolija through the coral bush, following the path the rest of the squad had trail blazed earlier.

oOoOo

Mav Ava'rya cried out in a mixture of pain and anger as his security droids hauled him backwards into the processing hangar of his compound. The droids were custom models he had ordered from a Bothan cybertronics company, which had based them off of sliced data from the Separatist armies from the Clone Wars. Unlike the clumsy a.i and stark industrial design of the wartime droids utilized by the now defunct Techno Union and Trade Federation, these droids were sleek, stylish, and featured sophisticated a.i programming stolen from Cybot Galactica, manufacturers of the popular 3PO series of protocol droids. But despite their black and white plasteel armor and polite mannerisms it still hurt when two of them gripped their master around the arms and hauled him backwards towards relative safety.

"Get off me," he shouted, wrenching free of their grasp.

"We are under attack, security protocols state we must transport you to your safe room," one of the droids said.

"There is no safe room that will keep you from the Empire," one of Mav's visitors, who had arrived moments before the attack began, advised. The tall alien with dark blue skin, Mav wasn't familiar with his species, was watching the entrance to the hangar with a worried expression on his face.

"How can I be sure you aren't working with them?" Mav asked angrily.

"If I were here to help to help the Empire capture you and your collection, they wouldn't have needed a sniper. I could have already rendered you unconscious the moment you met us at the ramp of our transport," the alien pointed out, gazing at Mav as if he pitied him.

"I don't even know his name," he shouted, pointing angrily and looking at the two humans. He had dealt with the two humans a couple of times before, selling them artifacts related to the Jedi order.

"You can call me Aramis," the alien said.

Before Mav could respond the sound of blaster fire coming from the other side of the warehouse interrupted. A human guard and another of the security droids were firing down a side corridor that led to the south side of the compound.

"Master, we must get you to safety," one of the security droids reiterated.

"There is no safety," Aramis shook his head. "Only escape. But before that, we need what we came for."

"Are you kidding me?" Mav asked. "The deal is off!"

"The deal is not off," the female human said. She reached out and grabbed Mav by the arm as he began backing away from them. Both of the droids reacted instantly, bringing their blasters up towards her.

Aramis reacted like lightning. He dropped down and swept out his left leg, knocking one of the droids off-balance. Meanwhile he shoved his right hand upwards, knocking the other droid's blaster off target just as it got off a shot, which struck harmlessly against the distant ceiling of the hangar. He spun and swept the legs of the droid, dropping it to the ground as it attempt to switch its aim to Aramis. As soon as it struck the ground Aramis threw a straight jab into its face, crushing its head and permanently disabling it. His closed fist dripped blood as he removed it from the remains of the crushed metallic skull.

While Aramis was sweeping the droid's legs one of his companions, the male human, fired a ion shot into the other droid. Electric blue energy shook the droid as it seized up and fell backwards. Mav attempted to turn and run but the human woman had a firm grasp on his forearm that he could not break.

"We aren't trying to attack you," she said, trying to reassure him. "But we can't allow what we came for to fall into the hands of the Empire."

"I…" Mav began.

"Help us get what we came for," Aramis said, "and we will help you escape."

Mav glanced in the direction of the firefight. One of his guards was cowering behind the wall under a shower of blaster fire.

"Fine…" Mav answered, his voice shaking. "...this way." He began walking towards his safe room, which was in the basement towards the back of the central building, before he remembered where he was going. "No, this way." He changed direction suddenly, causing the other three to exchange uneasy glances as they followed.

On the other side of the corridor the human guard took a blaster shot to the chest and fell to the ground. Moments later the Imperial fire-squad, led by R's, emerged into the hangar, missing Mav and the others by mere seconds.


	13. Chapter 12: Big Brother

**Chapter 12**

Big Brother

Mav Ava'rya led his visitors through his compound at a quick pace away from the hangar. They followed him until he reached a pair of his security droids who were guarding a turbolift door. Mav ordered them to cover their escape as he keyed in his security code into the keypad.

He was doing his best to clear his mind and exit the state of shock he found himself in. He considered himself a proper businessman, an entrepreneur and intellectual. He was not used to combat or violence.

The turbolift door opened and Mav entered the lift, followed by his visitors. He knew only the woman by name. She was an archeologist and researcher by the name of Polana Farrir who worked for universities on worlds such as Alderaan and Chandrila in their antiquities and archeology departments. He did not know the human man by name, but he had been present when he had met Polana before. He had assumed he was a guard. The other one, the bald one with dark blue skin, Mav had never seen before. In fact, he didn't even recognized his species. Which was hard to believe, because as a museum curator and well-to-do philanthropist he rarely encountered any species he did not recognize.

They kept glancing at him nervously, which made him even more anxious. He feared their anxiety was directed at him, and not because of the attack in progress.

"Your artifact is in my safe, inside my office," Mav said, trying to reassure them.

"Why isn't it in your vault?" the blue one, Aramis, said.

"Because I wasn't finished examining it," Mav explained angrily, as if he was speaking to an idiot.

The turbolift door opened, revealing Mav's spacious office. The office was located near the top of the central tower, and offered an expansive view of the surrounding valley. The circular room was decorated with numerous artifacts inside of display cases. Aramis raised his eyes when he realized a lightsaber was in one of them.

Mav walked across the thick red carpeting until he reach his desk. He walked around the ornate piece of furniture and slid open a metal door, revealing a central control terminal. He activated the security holo-screen and cycled through the security checkpoints. He expected to find the Imperials hacking into the vault but was surprised to see two security droids standing beside the heavy durasteel vault door unthreatened. He continued to cycle until he spotted them running through a corridor in the basement.

"Where are they?" the male human asked.

"The basement...heading towards the power generator," Mav answered. He suddenly realized they were going to cut the power.

"Give us the artifact," Polana said, brushing her short brown hair from her face as she watched the holo-screen. "You must hurry."

Mav pressed a few buttons on his control console, summoning the few remaining security droids and instructing them to meet him at the bottom of the turbolift. He turned from his control console. "I want my credits."

"We don't have them," Aramis said, shaking his head.

"Excuse me? You expect me to give it to you for free?" Mav asked, almost laughing.

"Our credits are still on the transport," Aramis said, his eyes beginning to narrow.

"Give it to us now, our employers can pay you after we escape," Polana said.

"I don't think so...that's not how this works," Mav said. He smile became full of malice. He reached back and flipped a switch on the underside of the control console's keyboard. The human man raised his blaster but could not aim it before a continous burst of energy shot out from the ceiling.

The energy split into three beams and struck all three of Mav's guests. The humans dropped to the ground instantly while the alien seemed to resist it. Aramis gritted his teeth as the energy coursed through his body, took one step toward Mav and reached out to grab the bothan. He jumped backwards, his eyes full of terror. Just as the energy burst faded Mav hit the button once again. This time Aramis took the full brunt of the security device alone, instead feeling a third of its power. The blue alien collapsed on top of Mav's desk, his hand inches from the bothan.

Mav let out a sigh of relief, but he wasn't allowed to relax for more than an instant. Suddenly the lights went out in the office. After a moment dim emergency lighting illuminated the room in subdued red light. If the Imperials had reached the power generator a moment earlier his hidden security energy conductor would not have been functional.

The bothan walked around his desk, avoiding his guests unconscious bodies, until he reached a hidden panel in the wall. He slid the panel open, revealing a safe. He punched his code into the keypad, which unlocked the safe, and reached inside. The safe was small and deep, and he had to reach in with his entire arm in order to pull out his treasure.

He withdrew his arm and dropped the cloth covering onto the floor, revealing an ancient golden Jedi holocron. Mav examined the holocron for a moment, glanced one final time at his stunned guests and then headed for the turbolift, which was able to function with reduced speed on emergency power.

oOoOo

Dekai had made good on his promise to secure permission for Kel to live off of the Imperial Intelligence headquarters building. After making another couple of bureaucratic stops Kel now found himself sitting in the back of a taxi speeder. It was evening, with very little of the fading sunlight reaching the speeder between the canyon-like city blocks. He closed his eyes and imagined the green forests of Jappa. Once again his thoughts lingered on his father and sister. He wondered what they were doing.

"Almost there, sir," came the polite voice of the droid who was piloting the craft. Kel rose out of his reverie just as the yellow speeder began to slow. They passed underneath an alcove in an enormous apartment building, which functioned as a landing pad. Kel gazed out the window at all of the traffic, realizing that there was more landing and taking off going on underneath this apartment building than there was at Jappa's main spaceport during peak hours.

He leaned forward and handed the droid his credit card, who scanned it visually and withdrew the required amount of Imperial credits from his account.

"Have a nice day sir, and thank you for flying with United Coruscant Taxi Service Incorporated, division 11b-3247…"

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome," Kel said, cutting the droid off. It's programmers really needed to look up the meaning of 'concise' in a holo-dictionary. He grabbed his bag and stepped out of the taxi. The landing pad was incredibly loud as he ran into the building's grand entrance. The lobby reminded him of Imperial Intelligence's, but with less ostentatious stonework and far less security. Most beings were headed towards the half-dozen turbolift tubes at either side. Kel, however, headed towards the main information desk.

"Hi, I'm here to check into my apartment for the first time," Kel announced. The clerk was a rodian wearing a pair of cybernetic eyeglasses that appeared to plug directly into it's brain.

"Do you have your check-in forms?" the rodian asked.

Kel pulled the flimsiplast document out of his bag and handed it to the clerk. The alien's eyes barely seemed to look at the document, but he apparently scanned the entirety of it in an instant. It, Kel couldn't tell a female rodian from a male, began tapping some keys on its computer. Soon after another flimsiplast document printed out of the desk. The rodian grabbed the new document and handed it to Kel.

"Your first month of rent has been prepaid. Your room is on floor 5006, east wing...will that be all?"

"Uh, yeah," Kel said with a shrug. He joined the line to the turbolifts and soon found his way to the east wing of floor five thousand and six. His apartment was on the side of the building that looked east towards the Senate district, and as he walked down the corridor towards his room for the first time he gazed out the windows. His apartment was nearly half-way up the building, and the view was much better than he had assumed.

He came to his door and entered the door-code indicated by the document the rodian had given him into the worn looking keypad next to the door. The door obediently slid open, allowing a wave of stale air to wash over him. He entered the apartment and took a look around.

The room wasn't big, smaller than the control room where he did much of his work at Imperial Intelligence. The carpet was grey and bland, but looked to be in good shape. A small kitchen was set into one wall while a dusty blue couch was set against the other. He placed his bag onto the couch and walked over to the far wall, along which ran a wide transparisteel window. He waved his hand over the window's sensor, which toggled the opacity of the window. He gazed out at the view. The landing pad he had arrived in was beneath him, although he could see speeder transports landing and taking off.

He turned from the window and walked into the adjoining room. He found the bedroom to be as simple as the main living room. There was a bed, a holonet terminal, a small closet, and a small window that looked out in the same direction as the one in the living room. There was another door in the bedroom that led to the refresher, which was just big enough to a standard sized being. Kel didn't mind the recurring smallness of his new environs...at least they were his.

He returned to the living room and looked around once again. Everything appeared as if the apartment hadn't been entered in a long time, but looks could be deceiving. A sat upon the couch and positioned his body so that his torso was hidden room view. He raised his shirt and activated the scanner strapped to his abdomen.

He had built the device himself out of spare parts in the workshops underneath the hangar, using specifications he had downloaded from the Imperial Intelligence databanks. Once activated it would automatically scan a room for listening devices and hidden cameras. The design was only a passive scanner, it could only signal its user if the devices existed.

A pulsing yellow light activated on the scanner, indicating that it was beginning its scan. After a few moments it turned green. There were bugs present, and they were actively transmitting data. Kel lowered his shirt and casually picked up his bag, taking it into the bedroom. He was angry, of course, but not surprised. He began unpacking his meager belongings, mostly standard issue clothing and hygiene products.

As he went about placing his clothes in the closet he took care not to look for any of the listening devices. Looking for them, or even appearing to know they were present, would indicate he had smuggled tech out of headquarters. After putting away his clothes and the rest of his things he retrieved his datapad from his bag and re-entered the living room and began shopping for food. There were several groceries located in the apartment building itself, but he felt the need to explore the city. And he wanted to visit an open air market similar to that which Cereen had taken him to. He smiled at the thought of her.

He would have to design a countermeasure for the surveillance equipment tomorrow and then figure out a way to employ it without being detected. He looked around the apartment once again. Nothing seemed out of place or tampered with. There was even a fine layer of dust over the countertops...obviously Imperial Intelligence did not employ amateurs. He found a nearby market on his datapad, stretched, and exited the apartment.

oOoOo

Dekai sat behind Si Nommon as the elomin female typed on her computer terminal's keypad. The analyst was running the final checks on his report which Dekai was about to file for his supervisor's perusal. He was in the stages of planning his operation. But he still needed to gather the required personnel in order to carry it out.

Si Nommon did not require his presence to finish the report, but since it was so close to completion he had decided to stick around after she had given him her status. He had a datapad on his lap, which was connected remotely to the Imperial Intelligence's surveillance program. Through this specially built datapad he could access the security systems and monitoring equipment in thousands of areas throughout Imperial Center. That included the Imperial Senate, the holo-news media companies in the Column Commons district, hundreds of Imperial Intelligence safe houses, and the apartments of some employees of Imperial Intelligence itself. Including the one that Dekai had assigned Kel to through Imperial Intelligence's housing and human resources office.

Moments ago Dekai had received an alert from the monitoring equipment that Kel had entered his apartment for the first time. He was currently watching his recruit walk through the apartment for the first time. Kel examined each room, began unpacking his belongings, and then returned to the living room.

He watched as Kel sat on his couch and then turned away from the view of the hidden camera. Dekai brought the datapad off his lap and peered closely at the screen. It appeared as if Kel was playing with something underneath his shirt... _had he smuggled surveillance equipment out of headquarters?_

Kel lowered his shirt and looked around the apartment, and then began looking at something on his own datapad. If he was aware of the cameras and microphones he did not seem to show it, as far as Dekai could tell. Moments later Kel walked out of the apartment and the monitoring equipment went into passive mode.

Dekai smiled. It seemed that his recruit was clever enough to realize he would be bugged. And clever enough not to go looking for the bugs or try to remove them as well. He had obviously been concealing something under his shirt...that would have been enough to alert him if he had actually been seeking to catch any potential bit of treason, had he been any other Intelligence operative of his rank.

Dekai went through a couple of menus on his datapad, cut off the surveillance feed, and then deleted the information it had just recorded. He was pleased with his recruit, although he still considered him a work in progress. But Kel was clearly gifted enough that he would be useful in Dekai's future plans.

"Sir?" Si Nommon asked, her soft and feminine voice interrupting Dekai's thoughts.

"Yes?"

"The report is finished," she announced. "And we are about to have a guest." She nodded towards the doorway that led out of the darkened analysis room. He spotted Ysanne Isard walking towards them. His good mood became sour, but he hid his hatred of her well.

"I'm ready to launch my operation," Isard announced. She glanced at Si Nommon for an instant and then focused her gaze steadily on Dekai. He could tell she was trying to read him.

"Is the transport ready?" Dekai asked.

"Yes, everything is in place...except for the target," Isard added with a barely concealed bit of glee.

"Well, let's go see how it works out," Dekai said, standing and stretching loudly. "Package up the report and send it off to Chief Calder," he ordered Nommon.

"Yes sir," she said, bowing her head slightly. She watched as Dekai and Isard left the room, a disgusted look on her face.


	14. Chapter 13: Sabotage

**Chapter 13**

The stage lighting inside the Galaxies Opera House on Imperial Center illuminated the center of the spherical room with bright beams of golden light. Colorful holographic fish drifted throughout the room, dancing in time to the rhythm of the music. The audience sat in wonder as the audio-visual display encapsulated them.

The audience attending the opera was filled with well-to-do business leaders from throughout the galaxy, the one percent of the one percent. Much of the rest of the audience was made up of Imperial officials; including admirals, generals, and Moffs. One of them, an older man from Kuat, clapped loudly when he noticed the choir rising from the center of the stage. Despite representing a diverse cross-section of the galaxy, including Mon Calamari, Bith, Twi'leks, and humans, the singers managed to weave their voices into a harmonious melody. They reached a crescendo in unison, and when their voices ceased the stage lighting disappeared in an instant. A moment of silence filled the room before thunderous applause erupted.

Normal ambient light returned, allowing the cast of the opera to bow before their audience. After basking in the applause for a moment or two they parted as the director, a lioness-like Cathar named Nequi 'Quam, rose from the center of the stage behind them. She bowed, a long braid of her white hair falling almost to her knees.

"Thank you, thank you," she said, her voice being picked up by the opera's sound system and projected to the audience. She paused a moment, allowing the audience's applause to die down a bit. "It's always been a dream of mine to play here, the most prestigious Opera in the galaxy, to the most prestigious audience in the galaxy."

Her flattery gained her more applause. She responded with a large smile, which came across slightly predatory, equipped as she was with her species' sharp feline-like teeth.

"And while I have your attention, I'd like to take this opportunity to say a few words…" she paused for dramatic effect, watching as the smiling faces of the mostly human audience looked down at her. She glanced past them for an instant towards an empty private box at the top of the Opera. It belonged to Emperor Palpatine himself. "The Caamas firestorm was not a natural disaster," she shouted. The expressions of the audience turned from happiness to shock in an instant. "The Empire murdered a world, and all of you have turned a blind eye." The Opera was now filled with dead silence.

Nequi turned away from the audience and walked off the stage, pushing through the members of her choir, petrified as they were with fear. She hurried through the dark backstage area, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the stagehands. This was not the first time she had spoken out publicly against the Empire, but it was the first time anyone in the audience had witnessed it. All of her other protests had been blacked out by the state-censored media. Let them try to black out this...her performance in the galaxies most prestigious opera house had been broadcast live across the planet and the galaxy, through the holonet. She doubted they would be able to block it everywhere.

She exited the backstage area and hurried through a short and narrow corridor until she reached an exit. She pushed open the door and found herself on a walkway overlooking the beautiful Imperial Center skyline. No, the Coruscant skyline, she reminded herself. Sometimes even she couldn't keep the Imperial propaganda from penetrating her subconscious. Two Imperial security guards wearing blue armor glanced at her as she passed, but made no move to intercept her. Either they had no idea what had just transpired inside the Opera or they had been told not to apprehend her. She had not expected to make it this far…

oOoOo

Ysanne Isard watched as Nequi exited the Opera House. She was sitting in the rear compartment of an Imperial Intelligence surveillance transport. From the outside it appeared to be a standard maintenance vehicle. There were even two detachable repair droids, which were transported on outer hull sockets, working on a damaged power conduit. But the inside was filled with the most state-of-the-art surveillance equipment in the galaxy. The vessel could monitor almost all forms of wireless communication in a one hundred kilometer radius, all the while with a direct link to Imperial Intelligence's data centers. Dekai was standing behind her, leaning against the hull.

"She's leaving the Opera House," Isard announced.

"It was a good performance," Dekai said.

"It was idiotic and meaningless. She must know we are planning to exterminate her." Nequi 'Quam had been on Imperial Intelligence's watchlist for over a year now. The brilliant director had spoken out against the Empire after almost every performance...including one that the Emperor had been watching over the holonet. The censors had prevented most people from viewing her antics, but word was beginning to get out, at least amongst the segments of the population that were no longer enamored of the 'peace' the Empire had brought the galaxy. When Isard noticed 'Quam's name go onto the kill list she had immediately reserved the case for herself. And then she had allowed Nequi to continue to speak out, so that she would be become even more infamous. _What good was it to make an example of someone if nobody knew about it?_

"I'm sure she does," Dekai said dryly. "You know what the word martyr means, surely?"

Isard looked back at Dekai with an odd expression on her face. She wasn't used to someone making fun of her. She wasn't sure if she was angry or pleased about it.

Before she could respond a voice, belonging to one of Isard's field agents, came over their comm system, informing them that Nequi 'Quam had boarded a taxi speeder. "...the speeder is en route to the Uscru district spaceport," the agent said.

"Acknowledged," Isard answered into her comm.

"If I can ask, I'd like to know how you ensured that the sabotaged transport is going be the one that she purchases a ticket on," Dekai said.

Isard abandoned her growing annoyance towards Dekai in order to inform him of the ingenuity of her plot. "The Uscru spaceport is the closest one to the Galaxies Opera House, naturally it would be her quickest route offworld. I had the spaceport's ticket system hacked...the first and only available transport scheduled to leave the system after Nequi's performance would be the transport we sabotaged, and any tickets she may have purchased for other transports will be rerouted."

"If all customers were rerouted to this transport, then it will be overbooked. They may not let her on," Dekai pointed out.

"I have agents inserted at the spaceport. They won't begin boarding until she arrives and they will ensure she has a seat."

"Very thorough…" Dekai said admiringly. "But what if she doesn't go to the spaceport at all. What if she decides to lay low for awhile and book an anonymous or illegal flight offworld?"

"If the taxi deviates from its course to the spaceport or she disembarks, the agents I have tailing her will open fire and leave her smoking corpse on the street for all to find…"

Dekai raised his eyebrows at Isard's display of gleeful bloodlust, but didn't say anything further. He also declined to point out that by rerouting all passengers to the sabotaged transport she would be magnified the innocents who would be murdered…

But as they watched Nequi's taxi arrived at the spaceport and the director entered the massive complex. The lost video footage, as the surveillance droid could not fly too close to the spaceport or follow her inside. But they received short updates from the agents stationed inside the spaceport. The cathar seemed to be behaving exactly as Isard predicted she would.

"...she has boarded the transport," an agent said over the comm. A malevolently gleeful expression came over Isard's normally expressionless and cold demeanor. She couldn't contain her excitement over what was about to happen as the transport lifted off. Dekai, however, kept his expression neutral. He also place one hand behind his back, where his concealed blaster lay.

Video surveillance returned as the transport rose through the atmosphere, this time from a specially equipped tie fighter. It followed the transport as it entered low orbit above Imperial Center.

"Transmit the detonation code," Isard ordered. She watched as the ship exited the stream of traffic leaving Imperial Center and oriented towards its hyperspace exit vector. The transport's momentum seemed to pause as it engaged its hyperdrive and then...nothing. The ship disappeared without a trace, just as any ordinary ship entering hyperspace would.

A few moments of silence ticked by inside the transport before Isard reacted. "What happened?" she asked over the comm channel.

"We are checking," one of the agents responded.

"Did it blow up?" Isard asked, her frustration beginning to mount. "Is there supposed to be a debris trail or did it blow up in hyperspace?"

"As far as I know it's supposed to explode before entering hyperspace," Dekai answered vaguely.

"I want answers," Isard shouted, rising from her seat and slamming her fists into her command console. The other intelligence officers in the back of the surveillance craft jumped in fear. Except for Dekai, of course.

"We requested a status update from the transport through the b.s.s," an agent answered, referring to the Bureau of Ships and Services, the bureaucratic agency that regulated and monitored intergalactic hyperspace travel. "It will take a moment…"

Dekai knew what the answer would be before it came a few tense minutes later. "It's confirmed, the transport is en route to Alderaan as scheduled. The captain reported energy fluctuations from their hyperdrive, but nothing serious. Do you want to request an interdictor to intercept them from the Navy?"

"An interdictor won't be able to get in position in time, too short of notice," Dekai said quietly. "And the Alderaanians are certainly not going to apprehend her for us.

"Negative," Isard said over the comm. channel. "We will deal with her later…" she seemed to deflate, her anger souring and turning into bitterness. "Everyone out," she ordered after a moment of staring down at the command console. The other intelligence officers obeyed, except for Dekai, who remained leaning against the hull of the transport.

"You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" Isard asked angrily, once they were alone. She was still facing away from him.

"I didn't know positively…" Dekai answered. "But I suspected...yes."

"You set me up," Isard shouted, turning suddenly and brandishing a vibroknife.

Dekai reacted instantly, pulling his blaster out from behind him and pointing it at her face before her knife reached his chest. "I allowed you to set yourself up. You were clumsy to bet the success of such a high profile assassination onto the back of an untested technology."

"You suggested the hyperdrive sabotage program," she shouted back at him. "That was your idea."

"I suggested the program, I didn't suggest you immediately use it. Certainly not on someone like Nequi 'Quam."

"I underestimated you," Isard admitted. Isard lowered her knife and dropped it on the floor of the vehicle, finally realizing there was no way for her to get the upper hand.

"Of course. I wanted you to." Dekai lowered his blaster, but didn't put it away. If she tried anything he would shoot her, but he wasn't going to continue pointing it at her face.

"Why?" Isard asked, returning to her seat and forcing the anger from her face. "Why sabotage my operation?"

"To get you out of the way. That I.S.B agent failed to eliminate that pirate captain, now you've failed to assassinate a high profile target...your father and the other higher ups will have no other choice but to select my plan now."

"That's it? You just wanted to embarrass me?"

"That's it. And anyway, it's not really as bad as you are making it out to be. You can tell your subordinates this was just a test run, a training exercise. No one will believe you, but you're the director's daughter...what are they going to do about it?"

There was a moment of silence as Isard continued to stare at Dekai before she responded. "You know, no one has ever held a gun on me before. Not outside of a training exercise."

"How does it feel?"

"Refreshing." She crossed her legs and closed her eyes casually, apparently content to wait until Dekai was ready to be done with her.

"Good, let it be a lesson to you," Dekai said, finally putting his blaster away. "Not all of your opponents are going to cower before you, afraid of your father. And don't ever act unless you are sure you control every variable of your plan."

"Are you done with your lesson of the day?" Isard asked with roll of her eyes.

"Just about," Dekai said. "But one more thing? If you are thinking of revenge, I wouldn't if I were you. I knew what you were going to do before you did it today, and that isn't ever going to not be the case. Take that anger and embarrassment you are feeling and channel it somewhere else. Don't make an enemy where you don't need one."

Isard couldn't deny his logic, despite her anger towards him. He had got the better of her. She wasn't as good as she thought she was, he was better...was this what humility felt like? Perhaps it was better that this humiliation happen now, than on the day she finally rose to the top and clawed Imperial Intelligence away from her father. Dekai turned away from her at last and began to exit the vehicle.

"Agent Dekai?"

"Yes?"

"Why is your file empty? Who are you, really?"

He smiled back at her. "Now, it wouldn't be any fun if I just came out and told you, would it?"

oOoOo

Cereen and Kolija arrived near the back entrance to the compound after a few minutes spent traversing the rough terrain of the moon. They walked along the wall while keeping their weapons up and ready. A tuft of smoke rose from a ruined security droid, it's black and white plasteel armor twisted by the heat of the shot it had received from Cereen's sniper rifle. She smiled at her handiwork as they passed.

They arrived at a gap in the wall that allowed entry into the inner courtyard and the landing pad. A handful of ruined droids were scattered about, along with the corpse of an organic guard, more evidence of Cereen's work. The transport that Mav's guests had arrived in still sat on the pad, its boarding ramp lowered.

"Cover me," Kolija ordered. Cereen crouched onto one knee and got her rifle into firing position. She didn't sight down her scope so that she could maintain a view of the entire courtyard and quickly spot any potential trouble.

Kolija jogged towards the transport and removed a grenade from his utility belt. After thumbing the trigger he tossed it up the ramp and then ran back towards Cereen. A few seconds later the grenade exploded, fire and shrapnel shooting out the back of the transport. The transparisteel canopy of the bridge exploded outwards, showering the pad in crystalline debris. "Nobody will be using that thing for awhile," Cereen's commander said.

Kolija crouched down next to Cereen and examined a holographic display on his wrist, which was displaying a map of the compound. "Let's circle around to the back, the target might have a speeder hidden somewhere."

The rose to their feet and began working their way around the main structure of the compound when suddenly all of the security alarms and bright spotlights went out.

"We've cut the power to the compound," R's said over the comm unit.

"Good, work you way towards the vault," Kolija ordered.

"Affirmative," R's answered. Cereen and Kolija turned a corner of the compound to find a series of loading docks meant for terrestrial cargo speeders. They walked up a angled ramp until they reached the nearest door. Cereen covered Kolija as he reached for his breaching detonators when a series of clanking sounds erupted from behind the door.

"Back," Kolija ordered, but was too late. All of the doors opened simultaneously, revealing over a dozen security droids and Mav Av'rya standing amongst them with a surprised expression on his face.

Kolija fired his e-11 carbine, striking one droid in the face as he tried to back away. Cereen fired her rifle at close range into the body of one the droids, sending it flying backwards in a shower of superheated metal and melting plasteel. The droids fired back, one of them striking Kolija in the shoulder. He fell backwards and tumbled off of the loading dock as more shots filled the space his body had just occupied.

The droids shifted their aim to Cereen who dropped another droid just before she withdrew around the corner. Multiple blaster shots poured into the wall, showering in stone debris. Her rifle was not suited towards close range combat, so she dropped it, letting her shoulder sling catch it. She pulled out her sidearm, a small blaster pistol. She wasn't sure if the small weapon would be able to penetrate the droid's armor.

One of the droids emerged into her field of view from the other side of the loading dock, attempting to get her into its sights. She dropped to her knee, attempting to minimize the size of her body and sighted down the durasteel sight of her pistol. She fired a shot, which struck the droid in the head. Rather than explode like all the other droids did under the power of her rifle, this droid merely fell backwards. The droid sat up and raised its carbine again, prompting a flurry of follow up shots from Cereen. One of the shots finally hit something vital and the droid froze, its blaster still aimed at her.

Cereen checked the ammo counter on her pistol. She had enough gas left for another dozen shots. Probably not enough. Another droid attempted to flank outwards, getting off a couple shots that went above her head. Just as Cereen fired back a cloud of dust enveloped her and the entirety of the loading dock.

She looked up to see a black, Imperial delta-class stealth shuttle hovering a dozen meters above them, it's wings in the act of folding up towards their landing configuration. The security droids switched their attention from Cereen towards the shuttle, their blaster shots splashing uselessly against its black hull plating.

The shuttle's loading ramp lowered, revealing the Inquisitor who had briefed Cereen and the rest of the response team. The Inquisitor ignited one half of his red lightsaber and jumped from the ramp, landing amongst the security droids. Cereen emerged from cover to observe the ensuing slaughter.

The Inquisitor deflected any blaster shots that happened to be on target as he gracefully ran towards the droids. The deflected shots struck the droids who fired them with an accuracy that Cereen couldn't have matched with her pistol, even at such close range. The Inquisitor sliced through the droids nearest to him, separating limbs from bodies and heads from necks with a the grace of a ballet dancer.

With her pistol up Cereen approached the loading bays, getting a better view of the action. One of the the last remaining droids struck the Inquisitor from behind, knocking off his helmet. Cereen was surprised to see the white head of a pau'an man, rather than the human she had assumed the Inquisitor to be. The removal of his helmet seemed to anger him, and he sliced apart the offending droid savagely, abandoning the grace that he had fought with up to that point.

Cereen diverted her attention from the Inquisitor just in time to see Mav Ava'rya attempting to flee back into his compound. She quickly switched her pistol to its stun setting and fired a shot into Mav's back, rendering the bothan unconscious.

"Nice shooting, recruit," the Inquisitor said dryly. She couldn't tell if the congratulations were authentic or not.

"Thank you, sir," she answered, nodding her head in respect. The shuttle behind them finally landed, causing the cloud of dust around them to settle. The Inquisitor stepped over the pieces of security droid littering the floor and walked over to Mav' unconscious body. He knelt down and removed a blue cube from the bothan's grasp. The Inquisitor held the cube up into the light, carefully examining it. He smiled, apparently pleased. "I think I'll be taking this."

Cereen turned from the Inquisitor and walked to the edge of the loading dock. She looked down to find Kolija lying on his back, blood pooling underneath him. She jumped down and knelt beside her commander and put her hands underneath his helmet. She felt a pulse and sighed in relief. "Senior Operative Kolija needs urgent medical assistance," she called over her comm unit.

"I believe that can be arranged," the Inquisitor said, looking over the top of the loading dock, a bit of contempt dripping into his tone. He held the cube into the light once more. "A job well done, a mission accomplished. I think your squad can stand down."

"Yes, sir," Cereen acknowledged. She returned her pistol to her holster and placed her hand on Kolija's wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood. A squad of stormtroopers emerged from the black shuttle and ran into the compound, quickly securing the area. The last stormtrooper to emerge from the shuttle carried a medical bag, and he quickly found Kolija. Cereen backed away so that the medic could administer aid.

She stood and watched as the Inquisitor returned to his shuttle, his full attention on the cube he had obtained from Mav. The rush of adrenaline coursing through her body began to fade, and she finally began to process what had happened. The Inquisitor frightened her, yet if he hadn't arrived when he had she would surely be dead. She decided to count herself lucky that he had. Above her the distant and beautiful sphere of Bothawui began to appear over the horizon, the closest thing to morning the third moon ever experienced.


	15. Chapter 14: Consequences

Chapter 14

The massive shipyards at Fondor were a hive of activity, with dozens of Imperial-class Star Destroyers undergoing construction. Massive skeletal construction ships hovered over the destroyers they were building, a nearly uncountable number of construction skiffs and droids flitting about like insects hovering over a nest. But in addition to constructing new vessels for the Imperial Navy, Fondor also acted as a replenishment and repair facility.

It was in the replenishment sector of Fondor's orbital shipyard that the most unusual thing was occurring. The twisted and burnt remainder of the Imperial-class Star Destroyer _Rabid Pursuit_ lay berthed within the emergency repair bay, the first destroyer to actually make use of Fondor's full repair capabilities. It was quite the spectacle for the crews of all the other vessels as they entered the shipyards. The proud officers of the Imperial Navy plied the hyperlanes virtually unchallenged. The vast majority of the Empire's military forces had not seen combat since the reconquest of the outer rim, almost a decade ago. And so the sight of one of their mighty vessels in such a sorry state sent shockwaves through the Navy.

Captain Ulox Praide stood in front of a massive viewport overlooking the _Rabid Pursuit_ as it sat in its repair bay. The distant orange glow of Fondor's sun reflected off the shipyard skiffs as they hovered over his ship, reminding him unpleasantly of the glowing corpse flies from his homeworld of Balmorra. The thought of corpses didn't make him feel any better as a door opened behind him and his superior officer entered the viewing deck.

"Admiral," Praide said as he gave Admiral Fallex a smart salute. Fallex was a native of Coruscant, and at nearly eighty years old one of the navy's eldest officers still on active duty. But the only signs of his age were his wrinkled face, his white hair, and his formidable mustache. Praide marvelled at the old man's energy.

"Captain," Fallex answered, his tone carrying grave concern.

"I take it you read my report about the mission?" Praide asked.

"Yes, I've read it," the admiral answered. He walked over to the viewport and gazed out at the _Rabid Pursuit._ His expression seemed to sour. "I'm not the only one that's read it…"

"Well, then you would know it wasn't my fault," Praide said. "What kind of pirates possess gravity bombs? And how could they have known to put them on our entry vector. I'm not an idiot, I didn't just march in through the front door like some kind of freighter."

"Yes, I know that. But if it wasn't your fault, then whose was it? The Security Bureau is certainly not taking responsibility for it."

"It was Agent Krom's plan," Praide said, closing his hand into a fist.

"And it was your job to carry it out," Fallex answered, raising his voice.

"I'm telling you sir, there had to have been a traitor, either with the I.S.B or on our ship. How else could the enemy have known our plans?"

At that Fallex paused for a moment. "The Security Bureau is looking into that, and Imperial Intelligence as well for that matter. The fact that they've yet to turn anything up is troubling…but we can't sit around and wait for those desk jockeys to finish looking under rocks. We need to take action and take action now. Grand Moff Tarkin is not happy."

"Tarkin knows about this?" Praide asked, suddenly quite afraid.

"Of course he knows, that old codger knows everything," Fallex said. A slight smirk played across Praide's face...he was positive Fallex had at least a decade or two of age on Tarkin, the infamous governor of the outer rim.

"So what are we going to do?"

"I'm putting together a taskforce, four destroyers and various support craft. And you're going with them. Under the command Captain Falkum."

"Falkum? Of the _Inferno Star?_ I've got years of experience on him. Has he ever even seen combat? _"_

"The result of your combat experience is plain enough for all to see, Captain," Fallex said, nodding towards the _Rabid Pursuit._ "You'll serve under Falkum as he sees fit until the _Pursuit_ is repaired." Praide grimaced. The shipyard had not yet finished assessing the damage, but he doubted his ship would moving again for another six months.

"Yes, sir," Praide said, saluting as Fallex turned away and left the viewing deck. He only hoped he would still be around to see his ship in working order. If he failed again he just might have corpse flies drifting over his body as well.

oOoOo

Supervisor Huff's morning started out like any other. His alarm woke him promptly at 600 hours local Imperial Center time. The droid intelligence in the kitchen was pre- programmed to start brewing his stimcaf five minutes before his alarm went off, which made obeying the blasted thing a little easier. He drank his stimcaf while eating his usual four strips of nerf bacon. Once he had started on his third strip of bacon he idly opened the messages on his datapad. A red flag immediately glared up at him, signalling the beginning of the downward spiral that he soon found himself trapped within.

" _MISSION REPORT: HIGH PRIORITY,"_ the subject line read. He opened the message and began to read through it. Suddenly he lost his appetite. The first mission using his brainchild, the hyperdrive sabotage program, had been an utter failure. "Damnit," Huff exclaimed, pushing his plate and the remaining bacon aside. That damned kid had been right the whole time. Not that Huff would admit it, of course. He abandoned his last strip of nerf bacon and headed out the door.

Huff was forced to spend his morning commute dreading the wrath of his superiors. He removed his datapad from his bag as his speeder taxi flew through Imperial Center's canyon-like avenues, activating his encryption subroutines and accessing the black-site bank account he had hidden. The account contained all of the bribes he had been paid by Kuat and other corporations for favoring their materials. It was his rainy day fund, reserved for situations just like this. Now he just had to figure which superior officer to bribe in order to spare himself from any reprimands he might face due to his program's failure.

He arrived at Imperial Intelligence headquarters and went straight into his office, ignoring the subordinates officers in the control and adjoining lounge who usually chatted him up with idle nonsense. He activated the computer terminal on his desk, which immediately emitted a chirpy ping. The sound was supposed to be emotionally neutral, but on days like this it felt like it was making fun of him.

 _"DEBRIEFING: MY OFFICE, IMMEDIATELY,"_ it said. The message was from Huff's immediate superior, Chief Supervisor Almadi Mison. Huff began to sweat. He had been bribing Mison periodically for more than a year, ensuring that his more capable subordinate, Senior Operative Van, did not take his place running the Tech Department's Development division. Huff hurried out of his office, passing through the control room. He noticed that the computer terminal that Junior Attendant Pereth ought to have been manning was still empty. The kid was late.

Huff walked quickly through the offices and exited onto the corridor than ran along the upper portion of the floor. Like always the area was a cacophony of activity. The noise aggravated him even more than usual. As he began to near the turbolift the doors opened and Kel Pereth emerged.

"You're late!" Huff shouted. His voice was blunted somewhat by the noise of the room, but his face, bright red with anger, sufficiently conveyed the message. But, rather than shy away like he expected, Pereth's expression became angry as well.

"If you read the messages I sent you'd know I finished those blasted reports three days ago. Why in the karking hells should I be on time if you don't give me any assignments," Kel shouted.

Taken aback that Kel had dared to speak to him like that, Huff couldn't think of a retort until the new recruit had already pushed past him. "Oh, you wait. I'll have an assignment you'll love when I get back," he shouted, although Kel could barely make out that he had said anything at all as his back was turned from him. Huff boarded the turbolift and was carried upwards. In truth he did not have any assignments in mind, but he was sure he could come up with something nasty. Maybe have him clean out the blast ducts by hand like a droid…and maybe accidently turn on a thruster while he was inside them. Accidents did happen all the time, after all.

He arrived in Chief Supervisor Mison's office minutes later, making his way past the cubicles that contained numerous secretaries and office assistants. A young woman was flirting with an attractive male secretary in one of the cubicles, but their conversation paused as Huff walked past. He was too distracted to recognize her.

The grey haired and dark skinned Mison had been serving the Empire for years, and had served the Republic during the Clone Wars before that. A civil engineer by trade, he had helped transform many of Coruscant's civilian spaceports into military facilities that the Grand Army could utilize to carry out the war, before the Empire had transformed the planet into Imperial Center. Since then he had worked with the Empire's Engineering Corps to design Imperial Intelligence's many facilities, both on Imperial Center and throughout the galaxy. The Development division inside of Imperial Intelligence, with its impressive ability to modify and construct entire ships to meet all of Imperial Intelligence's covert needs, was one of Mison's babies.

Mison didn't speak a word to Huff as he took a seat in front of his desk. Instead he began to read out loud a message from his computer terminal. It was an angry rant from his counterpart in the Assassination division, detailing that Ysanne Isard, the Director's daughter, had been thoroughly embarrassed. And added that the Chief Supervisor of Assassination placed the blame squarely on Mison's shoulders.

Huff cleared his throat, making sure his voice still existed despite his fear. "Sir, I can assure you that you are not at fault. The fault lies with my quality assurance engineers who…"

"Excuse me?" Mison asked, his expression furious.

"...the fault lies with my quality assurance engineers who…"

"The fault lies with me!" Mison shouted. "For keeping an idiot like you in charge of my most valuable division. Do you really think the other Chief Supervisors, or the Executive Directors for that matter, would let me delegate blame? Why do you think I'm going to let you do the same?"

"Sir, may I remind you that very senior officers at Kuat, and Seinar Fleet Systems, are very pleased with my operations."

"For buying their durasteel and ion engines? Any idiot could that."

"Sir, might I remind you how much _we've_ all profited from their favor," Huff responded.

"You aren't going to bribe your way out of this, don't even try."

"I just want you understand that there is no fault in the program's outlines. It's the engineers involved in testing and quality assurance who have failed. In fact, my office has been saddled with a new recruit who is worse than useless."

"A new recruit?"

"Kellen Pereth."

Mison began typing rapidly on his console, and then promptly swung the holoscreen around to face Huff. "You mean this Kellen Pereth?"

Huff began to read the message Mison had brought up, which had actually been forwarded to Mison through Senior Operative Van. His face began to pale. _"ADVISORY: SERIOUS FLAWS IN HYPERDRIVE PROGRAM,"_ the subject line read. The message, sent by Pereth to Van, outlined all of the failings he had pointed out to Mison on his first day, as well as several others. The message also noted that all of his reports had been ignored by Huff. But Huff knew he had not been merely ignoring the reports. He had been deleting them all immediately after receiving them, pretending the recruit did not exist as best he could.

"I have several other messages demanding explanations. From the Sedition division, from Destabilization, from the Executive Director of Operations. What should I tell them, Huff?"

"The engineers involved in testing…" Huff began, his brain locking up and seemingly unable to do anything but repeat his only excuse.

"I need my engineers, Huff. I'm under the realization that perhaps you're the one I don't need."

"Sir, I can assure you that it's the engineers involved in…"

"Go back to your office, Huff, while I consider what to do with you," Mison said, rotating his holoscreen back towards himself and promptly ignoring Huff's existence. Huff got out of his chair, suddenly finding it difficult to stand. He left Mison's office, ignoring the stares of the office workers who had clearly overheard at least the loudest parts of Huff's chewing out. The young agent was gone, but Huff didn't notice her absence. He found his way out into the corridor and began to head back towards the turbolift before he paused. He leaned against the wall, nervous sweat dripping from his nose, a nauseous feeling growing in his stomach. After a few moments he realized that he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

Huff diverted course, walking briskly down the corridor until he arrived at a secure communications station. There were many of these stations placed throughout Imperial Intelligence, and they provided agents a method of secure, classified communication when a datapad was not available or when wireless communication was too insecure. He logged into the terminal and opened his message account. He began to write:

" _To: Rebus Divit (Executive Director: Operations Bureau)._

 _From: Pluk Huff (Supervisor: Development Division)._

 _Subject: URGENT, C. SUP MISON FRAME JOB._

 _Body: Mison is framing me for his failure to staff Development with adequately trained personnel. Hyperdrive Sabotage is still sound, my program undone by gross negligence in testing. All ongoing programs should be immediately reviewed. Senior Operative Van colluding to undermine my record of successful management. I have worked well with important contacts in Kuat Drive Yards, Seinar Fleet Systems, and others. I have 500,000 reasons why their support is invaluable to Imperial Intelligence. We need their resources as much as the navy. Please respond promptly, Mison liable to make big mistake."_

Huff sent the message and began to breathe easier. Executive Director Divit had successfully taken his bribes before. He would be nearly emptying his account, but if Divit would support him he considered it money well spent. He exited the communications station, wiping the sweat off his brow. He took a deep breathe, attempting to get his emotions under control.

He returned to the turbolift at a much calmer pace, confident that everything would soon be back to normal. He would make an example out of Van and that infernal Pereth, just as Mison had tried to make an example out of him. He would just have to devise a strategy. He couldn't continue allowing them to outthink him. The turbolift paused and the doors opened. A large muscular agent entered the lift, followed by an attractive young agent. Huff recognized her this time. It was Ysanne Isard. The lift began to descend.

"Hold him," Ysanne ordered. Before Huff could react the muscular agent grabbed him by the throat. The man pushed him backwards, forcing Huff into the wall of the lift. Isard stepped sideways, placing herself between Huff and the other agent.

"What are you doing?" Huff said, his voice hoarse and strained under the grasp of the other man.

"What I should have done to Nequi 'Quam...shot her and watched her die with my own two eyes."

Huff felt her press the blaster against his side before Ysanne pulled the trigger. She fired a shot into him, and then fired twice more. He tried to scream, but couldn't get it out, what with that agent's muscular hands wrapped his throat. When the grasp was relinquished, he could only whimper.

He slid helplessly to the floor of the lift. The doors opened and the muscular agent left. Ysanne spared him one hateful glare before she too exited. The doors closed behind her and the lift began to descend once more. Smoke from his wounds began to fill the small confines of the lift. Before he lost consciousness Supervisor Huff was reminded distinctly of the smell of his nerf bacon. _I should have eaten that last strip._

oOoOo

After his run-in with Huff on his way out of the turbolift Kel made his way to the control room. He logged into his terminal and, as he expected, was greeting with no assignments. His frustration was clearly beginning to boil over, he just hoped that his back-talk towards Huff wouldn't end up costing him. He opened up his messages and sent a couple of sentences to Senior Operative Van, informing her that if she needed him he would be inside the 'scrap bin' storage room. With no assignments, and at the moment without Huff breathing over his shoulder or casting resentful glares in his direction, he felt free to experiment.

He exited the control room and went down the short turbolift that led to the research corridors. He passed several other technicians and attendants, ostensibly his co-workers, but they largely ignored him. Kel suspected that Huff was the source of their cold behavior, but he couldn't prove it. If it wasn't for his removal from his family it probably it wouldn't be getting to him as much.

Kel's inner turmoil faded once he entered the scrap bin and its enormous supply of parts and pieces, all archived and perfectly organized. His mind raced in a dozen different directions at the thought of all the possibilities. _I wonder if Cereen would mind if I modified her speeder?_ He smiled mischievously but pushed the thought out of his head. _Maybe I shouldn't piss off my one and only friend._

He walked past the rows of parts until he found his way towards the back of the room. He reached the high security lockers and found the one containing the mysterious sith power generator. He could make out the strange looking cylinder through the holes in the durasteel grate. After rubbing his hands together, an attempt to exercise some of his excitement, he punched the appropriate security code into storage locker. The locker door opened with a satisfying metallic pop.

Kel slid his hands around the object. It was heavy and cold to the touch, almost as if it was absorbing his body heat. He removed it from the locker, suddenly finding it was quite heavier than he had expected. With a grunt he managed to carry it over to a nearby workbench. Turning on an overhead light illuminated the object, but he couldn't make out any of the device's innards or their purpose. Kel placed his datapad onto the workbench and retrieved a holographic scanner. After connecting a cable from the scanner to the datapad he moved it around the sith generator. As he did a holographic image, in three dimensions, appeared above his datapad.

The core of the cylinder consisted of a spherical chamber. There was an odd receptacle at the bottom of the chamber, and several channels laid into the top of it. The channels wound their way through the cylinder until they reached the top. Kel switched his gaze to the cylinder itself, rather than the hologram representation of it. He place his hand atop it, feeling the minute recesses that revealed the presence of the channels. They were made of a different type of metal, likely a conductor in order carry energy from whatever it used as a power source.

But Kel couldn't perceive any type of control interface. His knowledge of the Sith was limited. He knew they are ancient boogey men, some kind of evil Jedi from eons past. But if they did have some version of the powers that Jedi did, he wondered if they didn't control this device in the same way that Jedi powered their own. Kel tried to remember back to his childhood, when the Clone Wars were raging throughout the galaxy. He remembered the holonews battlefield reports of the Clone armies struggles against the droids of the separatists.

Back then, before their attempted coup, the Jedi had been seen as heroes with supernatural abilities. Even though they were widely seen as corrupt, and acting only in their own interests, every young child in the republic wish that could be just like them, leaping enormous distances and wielding powerful laser swords. No, not laser swords...lightsabers.

Kel needed to find out how the Jedi powered their weapons. He looked over and spotted a computer terminal in a corner of the room. He entered his security clearance and was granted access to the Empire's data network. He opened a search query and typed in 'lightsaber.' An error message immediately popped up with an angry digital burp.

"Insufficient security clearance," the message read.

"Damn it," Kel exclaimed, placing his hands behind his head in frustration. He gazed over at the holographic image of the interior of the generator. There existed data streams outside of the Empire's control, although it was dangerous business to access them. He wouldn't dare it on the inside of their Intelligence headquarters. Surely, since he was now working for the Empire, he would allowed extra latitude that ordinary citizens were not.

He heard the door at the entrance to the room open behind him, but didn't turn round. Instead he reached over to his datapad and extinguished the holographic image of the generator hovering above it. He didn't need some other engineer spying on his thought process and stealing his ideas out from under him.

"You there, put your hands in there air!" Kel started in surprise and turned round only to find a pair of stormtroopers flanking an Internal Affairs officer. The stormtroopers trained their e-11 blasters on him and slowly approached down parallel aisles. The officer remained in the center aisle, blocking Kel's access to the door. As if he would consider running for it. "You're under arrest!"

"Seriously? Again?" Kel asked, full of exasperation. He had been arrested, what, three times now? It was beginning to become old hat. "Could we do this later, I'm a little busy." The stormtroopers were now beside him. They didn't seem amused by his nonchalance. "Alright, fine...can I at least ask what I'm being arrested for this time?"

"The unauthorized murder of Supervisor Pluk Huff." One of the stormtroopers grabbed Kel by the arms, twisted them behind his back and placed a pair of binder cuffs on his wrist. Kel expression was a mix of surprise and pain as they forcefully led him out of the room.


	16. Chapter 15: Overtures

**Chapter Fifteen**

Agent Dekai stood outside the promenade of the Senate, near the landing platform at the enormous building's public entrance. He felt uncomfortable wearing his Republic intelligence uniform out in the open, even though he had been told on numerous occasions that he looked handsome in it.

He overheard a comm message coming from the Clone trooper behind him, although it sounded garbled from outside the clone's helmet. From overhead the sound of a speeder transport reverberated across the plaza. The transports was a luxury model with chromium accents and glossy green body work. With a terrible feeling beginning to stir in his stomach, he watched as the transport descended through the bright morning light, coming in for a landing.

Dekai reached up to the holster resting on the breast of his uniform and removed his blaster. Although it was a decorative model, it was more than functional. "Stop them from landing!" he shouted at the Clone next to him. The Clone looked over at him, apparently oblivious to his alarm and the fact that he was waving a blaster around in a high security area. Dekai could not see the clone's face through his helmet, but he imagined the soldier to be looking at him in amusement, even as he shouted in his face.

He began to run towards the landing pad but only got half way before the transport exploded, throwing him backwards. He hit the ground, and felt an odd sensation coming from his abdomen. Blood began to spread underneath his uniform. Terrible beeping alarms shouted around him…

Dekai awoke with a start. He felt his abdomen where the scar would have been had bacta treatment not removed it. With a heavy sigh, and a forlorn look around his sparsely decorated bedroom, he threw off his blanket and got out of bed. He looked at himself in the mirror, noticing the cold sweat covering his body. His black hair, at moment unkempt, was showing even more signs of gray. He rather wished he could grow a beard, or even a goatee, although it would stand out amongst the clean-shaven look expected of an Imperial official.

A few minutes later Dekai emerged from the refresher, a cold shower temporarily washing away the memories returned to him by bad dreams. He stared out the window of his apartment, taking in the view that looked north towards the Senate district. The _Imperial_ Senate, he reminded himself. He could just make out the faint outline of the enormous domed building. Somewhere just beyond the horizon lay the Imperial Palace, which was once the Jedi Temple, and Imperial Intelligence headquarters in its shadow.

Dekai arrived in his office approximately an hour later. He closed his door behind himself and vocally instructed his computer to bring up his messages.

"Three messages from human resources, one from Si Nommon, and one high priority message from Admiral Fallex," the computer spoke.

"Play the message from Fallex," Dekai answered. He sipped from a mug of caf as the holoprojector came to life and the elderly admiral's image appeared above his desk. Dekai couldn't help but notice the mustachioed gentleman looked rather bored.

"This is admiral Fallex, commander of the seventh mid rim fleet. We've begun anti-piracy operations in the Lantillies sector and beyond. The task force consists of four destroyers and support craft, led by Captain Falkum on the _Inferno Star._ They've cleared five systems near the hyperlanes that have had previous incidents. So far they've found one base on an uninhabitable moon, in an unclaimed system. It was already cleared out, but showed signs of having been active in the recent past. No sightings of the _Hunter._ I'm officially requesting additional resources to put at Falkum's disposal. Whatever pull you people have at I.I, I recommend you use it, unless you want this operation to drag on into the next decade…Admiral Fallex out."

Dekai continued to stare at the space above his desk, even as the holoprojector winked out. While the report, which had been sent to many other officials at Imperial Intelligence besides himself, may have seemed unremarkable, the one detail disclosed was telling. They had discovered one base so far, and whatever pirates or mercenaries that were using it had cleared out ahead of time. _Almost like they had advance notice_ …

Dekai downed the rest of his caf, despite its high temperature, and deposited the soiled mug into the sink in the kitchenette of his office. He straightened his uniform before heading out into the corridor. _It's time to put the pieces together,_ he thought to himself.

He travelled through the corridors, which were still populated with early morning traffic, until he reached the Analysis Division. He found Si Nommon as he always did, the elomin sitting at her desk, glancing back and forth between three or four computer screens at once.

"Si Nommon," Dekai greeted as he approached from behind.

"Agent Dekai," she answered, not bothering to glance away from her screens.

"Do you have my funding requests ready yet?"

"If you had read the message I'd sent you'd already know the answer to that question," she responded dryly. "Yes, they are ready."

"Good. Have it sent to Chief Supervisor Telranni Calder. We've got a planning meeting coming up. The culmination of all of this research."

"I'm thrilled," she said, no hint of excitement on her voice. Dekai wondered if she behaved the same way around other officers. "However, I believe that something relevant to your nascent operation has occurred in the outer rim."

"Something relevant? What do you mean?"

"I take it you don't watch the holonet much," she said by way of an answer. She switched one of her screens to a holo-news report and scooted her wheeled desk chair back from her desk, allowing Dekai room to watch.

A rather unintelligent looking anchor appeared on the screen. Behind him was an aerial still from a dusty looking world. Black smoke was pouring into the sky from the city below. "Big news from the outer rim world of Formos this evening," the reporter began. "A battle between a notorious gangster and a bloodthirsty band of pirates erupts in the capital city, leaving thousands dead and tens of millions of credits in damage. For more we join fleet correspondent Kait Lo'well." A brief and shaky video of a starship falling out of the sky played on the screen before the aforementioned reporter appeared. Dekai's eyes widened as the resulting explosion threw debris into the air. He was unpleasantly reminded of his nightmare.

"Thank you Don," the correspondent began. "I'm here at the blackened ruins of the Formos spaceport, which was almost completely destroyed when the crime lord Poualiac the Hutt launched an attack on a pirate gang known as the Blackpool Fliers." The image of the reporter was once again replaced by another video feed, this time of a burning building. Aurebesh text popped up from below, identifying the structure as the Black Spike Cantina.

The reporter returned to the screen, but was now standing next to an Imperial officer. "I'm here with Lieutenant Sarn, of the Kessel sector fleet. Lieutenant can you tell our viewers back on Imperial Center what occurred here?"

Although the reporter identified the officer as a member of Starfleet, Dekai realized that he was not wearing the rank cylinders of a Lieutenant. _He's a COMPNOR officer._

"Yes Kait," the officer answered. "To the best of our knowledge this was an eruption of violence between two outlaw factions. A Hutt crimelord attacked the pirates while they were offloading illegal cargo, and the collateral damage was significant."  
"Have you identified the number of casualties?" Kait asked, her eyes watering from some of the thick smoke that was still present in the air.

"Rescue operations are ongoing, but the number is in the tens of thousands."

"What could the local government have done to prevent this kind of violence?"

Dekai peered at the officer as the man's posture became stiff. _He had rehearsed this part._ "Well Kait, the local government was completely overwhelmed. Only the Imperial Navy and the Stormtrooper Corp is capable of protecting outer rim worlds from violence like this." _Because we've made sure that they've been disarmed,_ Dekai thought. "The Empire will be assuming control here until the situation is safe."

Si Nommon paused the holo and turned in her chair to face him. "I thought it would be pertinent to convincing your superiors of the value of your operation."

"You thought correctly," Dekai said with a nod. He stroked his chin for a moment, several trains of thought winding their way through his mind. "What do you know about Poualiac the Hutt?"

She responded by typing in a search query on one of her other computer screens. A moment later a report on the Hutt appeared. "His kajidic is mid level, at best. Recently lost a crime war with Jabba the Hutt and has been exiled from Nal Hutta."

"Where is he now?"

"Unknown. He will likely reset his operations from somewhere outside of Hutt space."

"I see. So this a Hutt desperate to regain his position. What was the pirate gang called?"

"The Blackpool Fliers," Si Nommon answered. One step ahead of him, she had already called up another report, although it contained considerably less info than the one on Poualiac. "Their leader is a feeorin named Koravin. He is on COMPNOR's blacklist of former Separatist commanders."

"What did he do during the war?"

"Led a special operations team. Known to have fought on at least five different worlds."

"So he isn't a pushover. Did the Hutt kill him?"

"Unknown. I have only the holonet report at my disposal, and it is typically vague," she answered. She began to type once again, pulling up information about the Black Spike Cantina. Dekai read the information that appeared as she brought it up. The information indicated that the multi-level cantina had been identified by local security officers as a favored hangout for smugglers and black market merchants. "The owner lives on Coruscant, a former Black Sun leader identified as Kal Romaan."

" _Imperial Center,"_ Dekai corrected her. "I think I'd like to talk to this... _gentleman_. Put a dossier together, send it to my account and to Calder as well," he ordered, already turning to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got an operation to put together," he answered with a mischievous smirk. Before he could exit the darkened analyst room his comlink beeped loudly. "Yes, this is Dekai."

"This is Internal Affairs Supervisor Fae Tan, you requested to be notified regarding any matters concerning one Junior Attendent Kellen Pereth," a male and rather surly voice answered through the comlink.

"Yes, and?" Dekai asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.

"He's been arrested for the murder of Supervisor Pluk Huff."

Dekai tilted his head back, closing his eyes as a wave of anger swept over him. _I don't have time for this._ "Whoever is holding him, tell them to keep him on ice."

"Excuse me?"

"I said keep him on ice!" Dekai shouted, finally boiling over. Every other analyst and agent in the room jumped in alarm at the sudden outburst. "Freeze the investigation, put him in a holding cell, and I'll deal with it later."

"With all due respect Special Agent, this is not your investigation to freeze."

"Pereth is an _asset_ , Supervisor. _My_ asset. You will put him in a holding cell and leave him there until I have time to tell your agents how to walk without falling over their own feet."

" _Special Agent_ , you will remind yourself of your position and refrain from attempting to order a superior officer or I will put you in a holding cell myself."

"I'd like to see you try," Dekai answered coldly. Before Fae Tan could respond he killed the power to his comlink, preventing the conversation from spiralling downwards any further.

"Was that wise?" Si Nommon asked, her expression somewhere between amusement and concern.

"Just get me that information on Romaan. I want to know to his current location, and I want intel on every property he owns on the planet. Within the hour."

"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I'll have to bring in help."

"Just get it done," Dekai growled, already hurrying out of the room.

oOoOo

Kal Romaan sat within his office, nervous sweat beading atop his bald and battle scarred head. He held his fingers intertwined before him, anxiously awaiting a call. Through the window he had a clear overhead view of the dance floor and bar inside of the night club that he called home. It was nearly noon, and although the bustling planet-wide city didn't have a true slow period, the venue was not currently busy. There were a few patrons of various species at the bar, a handful more near the stage, and a few more after that eating at tables on the second floor walkway that overlooked the first floor. Outside of his door two of his bouncers, a gotal and a trandoshan, stood armed with blaster carbines. The guards appeared to be stricken more with boredom than alertness as they scanned the floor below. In addition to them a bothan stood in the doorway, his primary secretary and business assistant, her fingers nervously tapping the back of the datapad she held in the crook of her elbow.

The holoprojector crackled to life before him, and a still image of Lokil appeared. The man was a dark skinned devaronian with fascinating and elaborate etchings tattooed on his cranial horns. Apparently he was calling through a cheap holonet projector incapable of transmitting live video.

"Kal, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you," Kal answered. His voice was deep and gravelly. "Where in the stars are you?"

"Can't say," he replied. "I'm with the Blackpool Fliers."

"The Fliers? So you threw in with that lot? Were you there when that slimy scum Poualiac burned down my cantina?"

"I was there, I was doing business. The Hutt's people attacked without warning. I don't think anyone else made it out."

"Does that stunted huttling know who he's dealing with?" Romaan asked, his voice growing thick with anger. There was a pause from Lokil before the devaronian responded.

"I don't think he bothered to ask. I don't know that he would've reconsidered if he had."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm _Kal Romaan_ ," he shouted. "I was _this_ close to becoming a Vigo." Kal demonstrated his closeness by placing two fingers in close proximity to each other, although Lokil was incapable of seeing this through the holoprojector. "I'm going to put a price on that slug's head so big…"

"Speaking of…" Lokil interrupted. "I've got a crew of pirate friends here that want blood even more than you do. All they need is some fresh gear, some credits, some intelligence...I meant information!" he exclaimed, apparently speaking to someone on his end of the channel.

Before Kal could respond there came the sound of scuffling from outside of his door. He looked over to find a rather nervous waitress being held up by the bouncers.

"I'm busy on a call," Kal growled menacingly. "Get her out of here." The guards began to push her away, but she persisted.

"Sir, there is an Imperial here saying he needs to speak with you," the waitress announced.

"An Imperial?" Kal asked for clarification.

"Is something going on?" Lokil asked.

"I'll have to get back to you," Kal answered, annoyance and anger seeping into his voice. He shut off the projector and stood, retrieving a blaster pistol that was hidden underneath his desk. He exited his office and leaned out over the railing of the walkway, getting a good view of the dance floor. There, at an empty table near the bar, sat a human in the early stages of middle age. He was wearing a grey officer's uniform.

"Let's greet the man," Kal growled, motioning for his guards to follow. They strode down the walkway until they reached the stairwell, and descended aggressively. He approached the officer, who was casually sipping on a glass of water, making sure his blaster was highly visible. "Who do you think you are?"

Agent Dekai looked over at Romaan wearing an expression that made it seem like the hardened criminal was holding a water gun rather than a blaster. "Have a seat," Dekai motioned, as if it was his club after all.

"Or how about I just shoot you in the face and incinerate your body," Kal threatened, raising his blaster and pointing it directly at Dekai.

"Sure, you could do that. And the Emperor could resign and reinstitute the Republic. Have a seat."

Kal hesitated. He knew that no one in their right mind would come all the way down here, walk into _his_ club, and order him around...unless they were prepared for a war and had no fear of death. He lowered his blaster and turned to his guards. "Get me a drink," he shouted. As they scurried away he kicked a chair out from beneath the table and sat, placing his blaster atop the durasteel table with a loud thunk. "I'm going to ask you again, who are you? If you don't answer me, I will pick up that blaster, shoot you in the face, and worry about the consequences later."

"My name is Agent Dekai, Imperial Intelligence," Dekai answered, although the threat didn't seem to intimidate him.

"And what in the stars do you think you're doing here, walking into _Kal Romaan's_ club, and telling me to sit at my own table?"

Dekai paused, taking a slow sip of his water. "You like saying your own name, don't you. That's the kind of detail you never get in intelligence reports."

His rage beginning to reach uncontainable levels, Kal's arm twitched, for just an instant, towards his blaster. _Oh, please let me shoot this man._

"I've had a busy day, and as much as I wanted to send about a hundred stormtroopers in here and just kill everybody, with the exception of yourself, of course, I thought I would be reasonable. You see, while I considered cutting your power, placing bombs in your basement...I'm sure that's where you built off-schematic tunnels...and strafing any of your people stupid enough to make for the roof with TIE fighters, I thought that we could just talk. You see, I think you can help me."

"Help _you,_ some high society Imperial scum? I thought you'd be too busy planning your government's next genocide to bother with us little people," Kal spat. One of his bouncers returned with a drink, although Kal ignored its placement on the table between the two men.

For the first time his barb seemed to dent Dekai's calm demeanor. The agent sat back in his chair, sliding his glass of water away from himself. "You're not little, Mr. Romaan. You were almost a _Vigo_ of Black Sun, very impressive. Did you lose Garanthum on the vote? It must've been close."

"What? No, I didn't lose Garanthum," Kal answered, growing uncomfortable. This Dekai had identified himself as a spy, so he must have access to all kinds of information, but his knowledge level was unnerving. "That was after Alexi Garyn was killed, and Yanth. The vote never happened."

"Ah, my mistake," Dekai apologized, although his eyes seemed to be filing the correction Kal supplied away in some unknown corner of his mind. "So, onto why I'm here…"

"Finally…" Kal growled.

"The Back Spike Cantina…"

"What about it?" Kal answered, suddenly grabbing his drink and taking a heavy swallow from it.

"From what I can tell Poualiac the Hutt levelled it. Apparently he's unafraid of the great _Kal Romaan._ What are you going to do about it? _"_

Kal shifted uncomfortably. "I...I don't know. I just found out about it. He probably didn't know it was mine."

"Has that ever stopped you before? Are you going after his organization? Or just going to ask for reparations?"

"What do you care?" Kal spat. "And anyway, you don't ask for reparations from a Hutt. That's a declaration of war."

"You see, that's the kinds of things they don't teach at the Academy," Dekai smiled. "And anyway, by destroying your establishment, no doubt killing dozens of your employees, hasn't Poualiac declared war on _you_ already? _"_

Growing frustrated, Kal shook his head. "Yes, he has, _et chu taa_. But why do you care? Since when did the Empire care what people like us do to each other?"

"Since people like you started getting thousands of innocent people caught up in your petty wars," Dekai answered, his eyes becoming narrow. " _And making the Empire seem unable to maintain control,"_ he added with a whisper that Kal could barely make out. "I'll get to the point. I want you to provide me with contacts, I want to know how to reach the crew of the _Blackpool Flier_. And I want you to hold off on all efforts to get even with the Hutt."

" _Excuse me?"_ Kal asked, anger returning to his face. "Do you know how weak that would make me look?"

"Yes, I do," Dekai said simply. "The Empire will compensate you."

"Compensate me with what, exactly?"

"Whatever would make up for the loss of face you will suffer with your underworld 'friends'. What do you want? Credits? An export/import license that would bypass customs inspections?"

"An export/import license? You'd let me import whatever I want? Weapons?" Kal said, almost laughing.

"Let's not get carried away," Dekai said, smirking in amusement despite himself. "I could have this place, and every other place you own across the galaxy, looking exactly like the Black Spike Cantina within a galactic standard week. I could make you give me want I want, and give you nothing in return."

"Alright, fine," Kal sighed. "Forget credits. Get me that license."

"Done," Dekai said. The Imperial stood and retrieved a comlink from his breast pocket. "Contact me with this. And don't take forever." He tossed the comlink across the table.

Kal half wanted to admit that he could get the Imperial on a holoprojecter with the Fliers in the space of minutes, but quickly decided that would be too hasty. _Better to let him wait a bit. Make my end of the deal seem worth the payoff._

"I'll be in touch," Kal smiled, his hand returning to his blaster as Dekai made to leave.

"Good. You'll get the license _after_ I speak with them, not before. And for the Emperor's sake, don't plan on importing weapons with it. I will find out if you do, and I will throw you and everyone you've ever met into the nearest black hole."

"I'll bet you would try," Kal said, pointing his blaster at Dekai's back as the Imperial exited the club.


	17. Chapter 16: Little Sister

**Chapter Sixteen**

Despite the implied threat of death, Kel looked rather bored as he gazed at the Imperial officer sitting across from him. The darkened interrogation room was very similar to the one he had found himself in six months ago back on Jappa. If not nearly identical. After they had apprehended him in the 'Scrap Bin' room the stormtroopers had brought him upstairs, where he had sat in a holding cell for an unknown period of time.

He had already fielded questions such as, "Why did you kill Supervisor Huff?" and "How did you delete the security holocam footage?" To which he replied with answers such as "I didn't, obviously," and "With magic." The second answer earned him a shock from a stun club, which belonged to a stormtrooper who stood in the corner behind him. After a few more minutes of questioning, during which his short and uncooperative answers seemed to nearly drive the officer interrogating him off a proverbial cliff, Kel finally received a reprieve.

"That's enough for now officer, let's take a break," came an authoritative voice over a speaker, which was hidden somewhere in the ceiling.

"I'll be back," the officer said, casting a furious glance at Kel as he exited the room.

"Looking forward to it," Kel answered darkly. A few minutes seemed to pass with almost complete silence reigning supreme. His thoughts began to dwell on what in the galaxy he was doing here, fifteen thousand parsecs across the galaxy from home, and what his family was doing without him. He imagined his father was carrying on like always. His sister...he had no idea. He hoped she hadn't got into trouble in his absence. Although usually it was _her_ who kept _him_ out of trouble. Kel twisted in his seat, straining against his bindings to catch a glimpse of the stormtrooper behind him, who stood so still he appeared to be a statue.

But then sound of a blaster shot caused Kel to jump in alarm, muffled though it was through the one-way transparisteel on the other side of the interrogation room. The stormtrooper glanced sidelong Kel before quickly striding across the interrogation room, towards the source of the disturbance.

"Don't look at me," Kel said, raising his hands and attempting to highlight the 'in-place' status of his restraints. The last six months of Kel's life had taught him that, despite his sister's efforts, he always seemed to find trouble, and trouble seemed to really like him.

oOoOo

Six Months Earlier.

A green landspeeder with brown trim flew a few meters above the trees of the great northern forest of Jappa, which stretched out to every horizon like a sea of green foliage. The roaring, triangular shaped vessel caused flocks of flying monkeys to jump in fear out of the biffur trees as they shook in its wake. They screeched at the passing intruder at the top of their lungs, threatening bloody murder in their flying monkey language. But the speeder intruding into their world wouldn't have understood their threats, if it even could have perceived them. It's pilot shared the same ignorance.

Kasyndra Pereth steered her speeder carefully, although she barely glanced in the direction she was going. Her auburn eyes were locked onto the guidance computer on the display console of the speeder, which charted her path along a predetermined route. The route had been calculated by an engineer who worked for her father's shipping company, after she had given the engineer as much information as she could find about Kel's previous test flights. He had used that data to put together a search pattern that optimized her route over the forest. The object of her search, of course, was her brother's crashed starship.

She hadn't begun to fear the worst for hours after she had spoken with Kel over the comm. After all, her brother had taken joyrides in his creations before. When he was working on one of his projects, he would grow obsessive, there was never much hope of dissuading him. But he had never crashed or been apprehended before. The thing was, despite her and her father's concerns, Kel had never built a malfunctioning ship before. They always worked exactly as he designed them. Perhaps not straight out of the garage, but always before he flew them. Her brother had always been reckless, but that recklessness was always matched by the quality of his mechanical skills.

She didn't buy the Imperial government's story that his ship had blown itself apart midair. Despite her father's influence they had refused to tell them the exact coordinates of her brothers accident. That was when she immediately became suspicious. If the Imperials were purposefully lying to them she would have to find her brother herself. Even if there wasn't much left of him to find.

So what did she know? She knew her brother liked to test his designs over the great northern forest. It was an uninhabited region, and thus his chances of being interrupted or crashing into another ship were slim to none. But, if he had gone down, it must've been out there.

Despite her determination she had been at it for over a week, flying two trips a day, for six hours at a time. She did nothing except fly and scan, fly and scan. Her pink hair flew behind her in the wind, escaping from underneath the brown leather flight helmet she wore. She had been at it for over three hours, and from experience she knew that if she flew much longer she would risk becoming a lazy flyer. Her attention span would only last so long, and she didn't wish for her father to have to begin searching for her as well, if she crashed.

 _Beep! Beep!_ At first she didn't notice the sound coming from the speeder's scanners. _Beep! Beep!_ Finally an alert window popped up on the guidance screen.

" _What is that?"_ she thought to herself, confused. " _Why are there dots on the screen?"_ She had been flying around absent mindedly for so long, without any hits, she had completely forgotten what she was suppose to be watching out for if the scanners _did_ pick up something.

"Oh! kriffing hells," Kasyndra exclaimed, slowing down the speeder. She checked the screen, bringing up more detailed information. The hits were a few kilometers to her northwest.

She changed direction, tipping the speeder over on its airfoil and moving away from her predetermined route for the first time. The turn caused a small whirlpool of air turbulence to envelop a biffur tree, one that extended just a little bit higher than its fellows in the forest. A flying monkey attempted to leap out of the way of the speeder, but was caught in the vortex and was flung back into the tree from whence it had jumped. It angrily shook its little flying monkey fist at Kasyndra's speeder as she flew away into the distance.

She approached the scanner hits. There were three of them, arrayed more or less in a line. Now her attention was on the trees ahead of her, instead of on her guidance computer. She spotted the first hit, a hole torn into the forest canopy. She decelerated until her forward momentum halted and leaned over the side of the speeder. The trees below her looked scorched, most of the leaves having been burned away from the limbs. She slowly moved on ahead until she reached the impact point.

Part of her was excited that she had finally found a lead. But the rest of her dreaded what she might find. She lowered the speeder down into the forest, and then jumped over the side of the cockpit. Her boots landed with a wet thump. It must have rained recently. She gripped the side of the speeder and dropped down into the forest. It was a struggle to find footing in the layer of slick mud and wet leaves on the floor of the forest, nearly causing her to slip. She glanced around.

The canopy of the forest she had grown so accustomed to over recent days hid the diversity of the landscape below. Light struggled to reach the ground beyond the hole in the trees, and there was very little underbrush. She couldn't see a great distance into the forest around her, but she had the feeling she was atop a small hill. The ground to behind her seemed to only slope downwards. In the other direction there was an outcropping of jagged rock. Water trickled through the cracks, hitting the leaves of the lower branches with a rhythmic tapping.

Kasyndra carefully walked up the hill, throwing her hands out to each side to maintain her balance. She reached the outcropping and grabbed the edge of the rock, hauling herself on top of it. She looked back down the hill, towards her speeder. Nothing that way. She began to walk. The hill underneath the trees began to halt its upward rise until it reached another outcropping of rock. On the other side she noticed a downed biffur tree, its trunk sheared off a couple meters above the ground. The meat of its trunk was blackened.

She jumped down from the rock and approached the downed tree. All around her the wildlife began to awaken, their fear of the speeder waning. She could hear flocks of flying monkeys calling to each other in what sounded like territorial disputes. She could hear the cawing of raincrow lizards, their low pitched hoot like the song of a lonely musician searching for a lover. Finally she reached the broken tree. Mud was splashed all around, the rocks up ahead were covered in it. She stepped forward and had to bite back a cry as her foot slid downwards. There was a hole. She paused, letting her eyes get used to the dark.

After a moment she spotted an engine poking out of the mud. Throwing caution to the wind, Kasyndra jumped forward and slid on her butt down the hole, causing mud to slide up her back and inside her flight jacket. She ignored it. She reached the bottom of the hill and found that the engine was torn apart, separated from any other part of the ship it belonged to. But from what she could tell it looked to be a port side engine.

"Is this yours, Kel? _"_ She couldn't tell for sure, but she felt that it had only been here for less than a week. There was no plant growth on it. She reached into the pocket of her formerly white leather jacket and retrieved her datapad. She took an image of the engine nacelle and marked its coordinates. She took a look around, making sure there was nothing else to discover, and then attempted to get back out of the muddy hole she found herself in.

Eventually she made it back to her speeder and jumped in, without bothering to clean off any of the mud covering her. She took off and flew to the next hit on her scanner. There she found similar conditions, only a few hundred meters north and to the east of the first site. Here she found a torn wing foil. It was twisted and scorched, as if it had suffered rapid heating.

She travelled to the next hit on her scanner. This time she found a second engine nacelle, this one in many more fragments than the first. It looked to have been blown apart before crashing into the forest.

On to the fourth hit. She landed once again, this time in a small ravine. The ground was much more stable here, with small rocks lining the floor of the forest. In times of fierce rain this was likely a running creek. She followed the path of destruction until she arrived at a biffur tree that was bent half over, the top of its canopy lying in the creek bed. She walked around it and found the nose a ship embedded within the trunk. It was too damaged to recognize. She used a long vibro knife to cut away branches obstructing her view, revealing a fuselage and the crumpled remains of a cockpit.

The cockpit was bent and misshapen from the impact with the tree. The bottom was torn out, undoubtedly from the separation with the engines. Finally she noticed that the cockpit was scorched from the inside. She wanted to vomit, but she leaned over the craft anyway, gaining a better view of the inside.

There was no body. In fact, she couldn't even make out the flight chair. She noticed the internal scorch marks covering everything.

"He ejected," Kasyndra said aloud. "Kel, are you alive?" She sat there, leaning over the cockpit of what she knew in her heart was her brother's ship.

She looked backwards towards the rear of the craft. It looked blown apart, but there the damaged seemed bent inward, not something an ejection seat could have done. She cut away another branch that leaned over the ship, allowing her to crawl on top of it. Her hand reached the astromech socket. The metal alloy around it was bubbly, as if it had melted from the outside.

" _It wasn't an internal explosion,"_ she realized. _"Someone had shot him down."_

Kasyndra moved to the back of the fuselage and found what was left of Kel's astromech droid, BR2-DE. The top of its dome was blown outwards, not from an external blast. That contradicted her earlier assumption but...she was out of her depth. She could see the evidence, but she didn't know what it was trying to tell her. She reached into her pocket, retrieved her datapad, and documented the evidence. She needed help, and knew several individuals within her father's company that would listen.

If her brother was out there, she was going to find him. She swore it.

oOoOo

Thane Pereth sat hunched over his desk as bright morning light shone through the window behind him, illuminating his expansive office in beautiful golden light. His office was on the top floor of one of Jappa's highest office buildings, in the central business district of the capital. If the middle aged man were to swivel his chair around he would have been afforded an unmatchable view. The transparisteel skyline glowed in the line, and off in the distance he could make out the vast green forests. On most mornings he would often stand and admire the view with a cup of caf, the beautiful scenery helping to calm his nerves and make running a multi-billion credit shipping company all the easier.

But the view no longer calmed him. Not since his son, Kel, went missing. A light was blinking on the holoprojector on his desk, indicating that he had numerous messages awaiting him. He scowled and turned away from the projector. Every morning this week he had attacked work as if it were the only thing in the universe. It distracted him from the ache eating away at his chest. But this morning he didn't seem to have it in him.

A knock from his door startled him, but by the time he turned his chair to face the doorway his downtrodden visage had been replaced by one of casual good nature. "Come in," Thane called, wiping a stray bit of hair back into place upon his head.

An enormously tall cathar, his leonine mane flowing behind broad shoulders, entered the room. "Mr President, good morning," the cathar said, bowing.

"Lom, what did I tell you about titles," Thane smiled.

"If you're sitting behind that desk, in this office, I'm using your title…" Lom's deep voice boomed across the office, even though his tone was congenial.

"Fine, _Chief Financial Officer_ _Yan Po Lom,_ what can I do for you?"

"I take it you haven't answered your messages yet?" Lom asked after rolling his eyes and flicking his tail.

"I haven't got around to it yet," Thane answered simply, shrugging his shoulders as some of his forced cheer faded.

"You got one from your daughter," Lom informed him.

"Kasyndra?" Thane asked. "Why would she message me, I saw her last night."

"You saw her, but you didn't speak to her," Lom clarified.

"I know. She wants me to lodge a complaint with the Imperials. She doesn't buy their story," Thane explained.

"Do you?"

"No...not really. But if I raise hell about it, it will only cause trouble. For me, for Kasyndra, and for the company. You know how Imperials are. You know better than most do."

"Yes, of course. But her message wasn't about lodging complaints. She can explain herself, as she's coming up to see you in a moment."

"What? Then why are you telling me this?" Thane asked, anger finally creeping into his voice.

"She wanted this meeting to be here, where you couldn't avoid it or send her away. She is clever, you know," Lom smiled. Thane always thought the cathar's smile looked a little predatory. It wasn't a behavior that was native to Lom's species. But Lom couldn't help but be intimidating. After all, he was a bipedal, two meter tall, carnivorous feline.

Lom took a seat in front of Thane's desk and folded one leg over the other. Several moments of tense silence passed between them, as if he was daring Thane to throw him out of the office. And if the big cathar wasn't one of his oldest friends...and a member of the board of directors, he probably would have, Thane thought to himself. Although it felt like an eternity, in reality only a minute or two passed before Kasyndra entered her father's office. She knocked lightly on the door and then pushed it open before Thane could inquire.

"Father," she said, greeting him with a quick bow. His sixteen year old daughter was wearing business attire. Although her bright pink hair clashed with her professional skirt and jacket ensemble, she had braided her hair tightly to the back of her head in a style that was popular amongst the upper classes in the core worlds. Her formality unnerved him.

"Kasyndra, what's going on that you couldn't talk to me about it at home?"

"How could I talk to you? Ever since Kel disappeared you lock yourself in your room as soon as you get home. And you leave in the morning before I even get up." Kasyndra's tone of voice didn't betray any anger or sadness at his treatment of her. Instead her voice was neutral, as if his behavior hadn't bothered her at all. She just took it in stride and carried on with her day. His brow fell slightly. He very much wished she hadn't inherited that particular character trait from him.

"I am sorry. You know that I'm mourning Kel...but I haven't meant to take it out on you."

"Yes, well, that's why I'm here," she said, neither accepting his apology nor acknowledging his admission. She walked across the office and deposited a datacard onto his desk. "As you know I've been conducting my own search for Kel's crash sight."

"I thought I told you to drop that," Thane said, his voice lowering. "I told you it was too dangerous."

"I made sure she relied only on those we can trust," Lom chimed in, prompting Thane to cast a withering glare at him. The cathar's dark eyes narrowed slightly, but showed no other signs of intimidation.

"I found his ship," Kasyndra announced, her voice finally beginning to crack. Her resolve wavered as she watched the anger on her father's face vanish into despair.

Thane picked up the datacard. "Did you find his body?"

"No. But I did find pieces of his ship scattered across half a kilometer, as well as what was left of his astromech droid…"

"Our technicians are examining it, but it's unlikely that any data can be recovered," Lom said.

Kasyndra glanced at Lom before continuing. "We also found his flight chair."

There was a pause in the room as Thane absorbed the revelation. "You found his flight chair...but no body."

"The Imperials are lying, father. He didn't crash. He was shot down, but he ejected and survived."

"So he could be in that forest still?"

"I don't think so," Lom said. "She brought me her initial findings, and I had a few covert searches conducted. There is no sign of him in the forest, alive or dead. No tracks or markings of any kind, except for where we found his flight chair."

"Covert searches? Why wasn't I told of this?" Thane spat. Kasyndra frowned. That was not the part of that revelation she wanted him reacting to.

"Because you'd only slow things down. Because we wanted to keep you away from it in case the Imperials are monitoring you," Kasyndra yelled. "Kel is alive dammit."

Lom glanced at Kasyndra in concern. "We don't know that for sure...but we at least know that he didn't die crashing into the forest."

"You're implying that the Imperials captured him? Why would they arrest him?" Thane asked.

"There was a no fly zone that day...Moff Sawn had arrived to meet with the governor. They might have mistaken Kel's ship as some kind of threat," Lom said.

"They could be holding him at that new Imperial base this very moment. You run the second biggest business on this kriffing world, you're on a first name basis with the governor. Tell him to release my brother," Kasyndra yelled.

"I...it doesn't work like that Kasyndra," Thane pleaded. "Governor Sant is an off-worlder. I can't just accuse him of lying and make demands."

"So what are you going to do? Nothing? Just carry on running your business and saving up for another yacht?"

"Hold on…" Thane began angrily. He was interrupted by a low growl from Lom, who stood and moved between them.

Kasyndra ducked around Yom's wide frame. "If you aren't going to do anything, I know who will...does she even know Kel is missing?"

"Your mother? I don't even know where to find her."

"Have you even tried looking?"

"What good would it do? You haven't seen her in ten years. Do you even remember what she looks like?"

Tears were forming in Kasyndra's eyes, and suddenly Thane regretted what he had just said to his daughter, who was likely now all he had left. "I know why she left," she said, "don't believe for a second I don't…because you'd rather protect your business than find your son or love your wife."

"You don't know as much as you think," Thane answered sadly.  
"I'm going to find her, and then I'm going to help Kel" Kasyndra said, tears now streaming down her face.

"You aren't going anywhere," Thane said, clumsily getting out from behind his desk and making to grab his daughter before she left the room.

"If you try to stop me I won't ever come back," Kasyndra said with finality, turning back from the doorway to gaze at her father one last time. They locked eyes for a moment, his pleading and hers full of anger, before she exited the room.

Thane made to follow but Lom held up his hand, stopping the smaller human with his powerful frame. "You can't stop her."

"She's a minor you kriffing cathar, I sure as hell can."

"Let me rephrase...you won't be able to stop her. Let me go with her, let me protect her for you."

Thane stopped. "You're the c.f.o, you can't just up and leave."

Lom scowled angrily. "You need a break from the business Thane...I will resign, obviously. I have a ship, more credits than I can spend, and...I know certain people. I can help her find her mother."

"What good would that do? Asirya can't help Kel. Kel is dead already."

"You don't know that for sure," Lom said. "Unless you want to risk losing your remaining child, you need to let me help her."

There was a very long pause before Thane withdrew and collapsed into one of the chairs in front of his desk. His huge office suddenly felt very lonely.

"Fine, go. Look after her. But I'm not holding your position open for you."

"Thane...don't bother" Lom said, the previous deference with which he had held his friend and boss suddenly absent.

oOoOo

Present Day

The door leading out of the darkened interrogation room opened before the stormtrooper could reach it. Two additional stormtroopers burst through, armed with e-11 blasters, and pushed the other aside. The pair parted, allowing an officer to pass between them.

"Dekai?" Kel asked, straining against his binders.

"Happy to see me?" Dekai asked, a slight grin on his face. "Right, you there," he said to the suddenly redundant guard. "Release the prisoner."

"Uh, where is Chief Supervisor Tan? This prisoner belongs to him," the stormtrooper said, his voice filled with obvious uncertainty.

Dekai glanced back at the open door, through which smoke from the blaster shot was beginning to drift out. "The Chief Supervisor is...indisposed at the moment. I'm sure he won't mind." Dekai paused, glancing at the two stormtroopers flanking him. "Now if you'd be so kind…"

With one nervous glance at the doorway the stormtrooper obliged, releasing Kel from the security binders that restrained him.

"Now then, let's go," Dekai said, motioning for Kel to follow. They stepped out of the room, with Kel stumbling over a body.

"Did you kill that guy?" Kel asked, a mix of shock and awe on his face.

"Oh, he'll be alright. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way," Dekai said as he led him down the corridor.

"Promotion? I get hauled in for questioning and the result is a promotion? Did you know they think I killed Supervisor Huff?"

"Yes, a promotion. You're now a full Attendant. They didn't actually think you killed Supervisor Huff, but they were willing to blame it on you anyway. You didn't give them a confession did you?"

"What? No, of course not. He was becoming a pain but I didn't have any reason to kill him. What did I do to them that would make them want to frame me?"

"Nothing. It was more convenient for them to blame you than the alternative." Dekai stopped at a turbolift and dismissed the two stormtroopers who had been following them.

"What alternative?"

"Investigating the Director of Imperial Intelligence's daughter for murder," Dekai said, not even looking at Kel as the turbolift door opened. Together they entered the lift. "I'm taking you to a meeting, a very important meeting, and I don't have time to explain everything. Just sit there and listen, and don't speak unless spoken to. Understand?"

"Got it," Kel nodded.

"Good," Dekai answered. The pair were silent as the lift ascended.


	18. Chapter 17: A Crimson Star

**Chapter Seventeen**

Agent Dekai stepped through an armored doorway near the top floor of Imperial Intelligence headquarters, followed closely by Kel. Two stormtroopers standing to either side of the door barely glanced in their direction as they passed by. The conference room was expansive and dark, shaped like a concave amphitheatre. Two rows of seating curved around a raised platform, upon which sat an enormous holoprojector.

Dekai walked down the short aisle until he reached the first row. As his eyes adjusted to the light Kel realized there was another being already inside the conference room, a salmon colored elomin woman with a crown of short jagged horns sprouting from her head. She wore an intelligence uniform identical to Kel's, a light grey version of a naval officer's uniform. Two rank squares rested upon her chest, indicating that she was the same rank as Kel, an Attendant, although he had yet to receive his second square. She sat at a computer terminal just below the dais, and appeared to be awaiting the start of the meeting.

"May I introduce you to Si Nommon, she works in Cryptanalysis. Si Nommon, this is Kel Pereth, from the Tech Section," Dekai said, gesturing with an open palm towards her.

"Nice to meet you," Kel said. Unsure if he was supposed to salute or shake hands, he settled for a slight bow.

"Yes, I know who you are," she said, her voice stiff and monotone. Despite her apparent rudeness she quickly returned his bow with a slight nod of her head. Her eyes, the pupils of which were a shade in between orange and yellow, looked him over. "I see you are no longer being held for Pluk Huff's murder."

"Uh, no, it seems not," Kel answered, glancing over at Dekai.

"I could look into the former Supervisor's fate, clear your name for good," Si Nommon offered, a hint of excitement appearing on her face.

"That won't be necessary," Dekai said, shaking his head. Si Nommon stared at Dekai a moment, as if she could work out what he had done to spring Kel with visual cues alone. She flared her skull-like nostrils, smelling a faint hint of blaster smoke on the Special Agent. Her eyes fell to Dekai's chest pocket, where he normally kept his hidden blaster, noting the cloth of his uniform showed no evidence of any hidden weapon.

Before she could inquire further the trio was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A stormtrooper entered the room and stepped aside, allowing the first in what became a near parade of Imperial Intelligence officers. The first to enter was Dekai's boss, Telranni Calder, Chief Supervisor of Renik. The middle-aged and slightly overweight man was closely followed by Chief Supervisor Almadi Mison, who was remarkably similar in appearance, with the addition of a formidable mustache. Calder gave Dekai a knowing look and took a seat in the front row, to the left of the center aisle.

"Go take a seat in the second row," Dekai said to Kel. Kel departed, leaving Dekai free to take the stage and await the beginning of the presentation.

Rebus Divit, the Executive Director of Operations and Calder's boss, was the next to enter, closely followed by Wulf Yularen, the Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence. Yularen, a well respected veteran of the Clone Wars, whose grey hair was rapidly turning white, was in charge of the once separate division of Imperial Intelligence that worked directly with the vast Imperial Starfleet. Next to enter was Orson Krennic, freshly reinstated as the Director of Advanced Weapons Research, which was technically under Imperial Intelligence's umbrella. Krennic chose to wear an atypical uniform, which was white similar to Wulf Yularen's, but with the addition of a cape. Dekai purposefully ignored the rather bored looks Director Krennic cast in his direction.

A handful of lower ranking officers followed, some of them aides and subordinates of the more important officers already present. But Dekai couldn't begin until the highest ranking officer of all entered the room. As the minutes ticked by and the room filled with the noise of the other officers making small talk, Dekai resisted the urge to storm up the aisle and find out if Harus Ison was deliberately stalling in order to make a more dramatic entrance.

Just before his patience ran out Ison entered the room. A member of the Ubitqorate, the board of advisors that not only oversaw Imperial Intelligence and its rival organization the Imperial Security Bureau, but COMPNOR as a whole, Ison wore a black officer's uniform with ostentatious red and gold trim, his white mustache twirled into ridiculously long points. If the man didn't walk down the aisle flanked by two elite death trooper bodyguards Dekai would not have been able to prevent himself from laughing at his over-the-top outfit. He made Krennic's unusual uniform look tame in comparison.

Ison took the incredulous stares he received from the room in stride, clearly revelling in the attention his appearance brought him. He took a seat in the front row and looked at Dekai expectantly. The room quieted.

"Many of you know who I am," he began. "For those of you who don't, I am Special Agent Dekai, Renik Division. First I would like to thank you all for being here. I know many of you have a very busy schedule." Krennic shifted in seat, nearly rolling his eyes at Dekai's admission.

Dekai looked across the room until he made eye contact with Si Nommon, who activated the controls of the holoprojector. A representation of the galactic map appeared, hovering over the platform like a cloud of incandescent insects.

"The galaxy is over one hundred and twenty thousand light years across, with some four hundred billion star systems. The Galactic Empire, the largest and most powerful government in history, consists of over one and a half million systems."

"I didn't travel halfway across the galaxy for a geography lesson," Krennic said aloud, his tone sarcastic but nonetheless condescending, drawing a handful of snickers throughout the room."

"Of course not Director," Dekai continued, barely skipping a beat. "But you'll have to forgive the preamble, as it provides what I'm about to propose the proper context. The Imperial Navy currently sits at nearly twenty thousand Imperial-class star destroyers, with the Kuati's and Corellians unable to build them fast enough. That's twenty thousand destroyers, not counting their smaller brethren, trying to maintain order across a million and half star systems. "

"Are you about to re-state the Tarkin doctrine?" Ison asked. "Rule through fear of force, rather than force itself. I believe that's what Krennic's….project...is for."

"I would, respectfully, remind everyone that my division's work is beyond top secret," Krennic stated, glancing pointedly at Si Nommon, who was the only non-human present.

"Of course, Director," Dekai said. He turned towards Ison. "The Tarkin doctrine is primarily addressed towards keeping the major star systems and sectors in line. But there is a large and growing industry that is not aligned with any system or oversector. An industry that has no fear of the Imperial Starfleet, because despite our growing number of ships or how big they get, we cannot be everywhere at once. I'm talking about pirates."

Si Nommon altered the holoprojector, which replaced the still holo-image of the galaxy with a three dimensional video. A loud bang reverberated across the room as a holographic starfighter, trailing smoke and fire, slammed into a block of apartment buildings.

"This battle took place on Formos, a tiny little world in the outer room. A tiny little world that is the only port leading into the Maw blackhole cluster, and the chief export of every bit of spice that leaves Kessel. Throughout the core, if you had polled ten random Imperial citizens and asked them what they knew of Formos, it is doubtful that three in ten would have even known what world you were talking about. But they know Formos now, because for the past week replays of this battle, which killed tens of thousands of people, has been playing over and over on the holonet. And where was the Imperial Starfleet? Half a sector away, dealing with an unrelated piracy problem."

"Formos is now under direct Imperial occupation," announced Rebus Divit, his gravelly voice rumbling across the room.

"It's strategic importance was vastly underestimated," Wulf Yularen said. "We won't leaving it unattended again."

"And it serves a useful propaganda purpose. It shows the galaxy that they still need the protection that only the Empire can provide," Ison said.

"But it also provides a negative narrative," Dekai countered. "It tells the galaxy that they are only safe as long as there is a Star Destroyer hovering overhead. Which, with one and a half million systems to look after, is highly unlikely for most citizens. So what will they do? What would any sensible planetary government do? They'll arm themselves, to prevent Formos from happening to them. Which is the last thing COMPNOR and every other branch of the Empire wants."

"So what are you proposing?" Telranni Calder asked, a self-amused smile on his face, pleased at himself with providing his subordinate an opportunity to reveal the plan they had secretly been working on together for months.

"I'm proposing an entirely new approach. I'm proposing embedding this agency within the underground criminal economy. The starfleet can't be everywhere at once, but if we can provide the admirals with insider information, tell them exactly when and where to hit the most dangerous gangs, tell them where these criminals will strikes next, starfleet won't have to be everywhere at once. I'm proposing beginning the process of doing to the criminal underworld what the Empire has done to the rest of the galaxy...controlling the it, directing it to our own purposes, even if we don't outright own them."

"The Empire already has contacts with the scum of the universe...the Emperor himself invites that Black Sun slime Xizor to his palace more frequently than he does Vader," Ison said.

"Because he's a better dinner guest, obviously," Krennic said with a mischievous smile.

"That might be true," Dekai continued, declining the opportunity to openly disparage the Dark Lord of the Sith. "But the Empire's alliance with Black Sun is primarily to counter the Hutt's, and Black Sun is primarily concerned with smuggling, racketeering...and they're independent. They aren't afraid to incinerate an Imperial spy if they find one they don't like very much."

"So what are you actually proposing?" Yularen asked.

"I'm proposing we set up a covert band of pirates, made up and controlled by Imperial agents, infiltrate the web of shadow ports and black markets, and figure out just where the strings are that we can pull."

"What would that accomplish?" Krennic asked, a skeptical frown playing over his face.

Si Nommon responded by playing an image of the beaten up _Rabid Pursuit_ sitting in its repair bay over the holoprojector.

"Perhaps, in time, we'd be able to find out where pirates like the ones flying a Venator around and making fools of the starfleet, and not to mention hitting _your_ convoys I might add, are operating from. And then take them out."

Silence reigned over the room as the assorted officers mulled over his proposal. Dekai took the raising of no further objections as a good sign.

"I believe I've seen enough to tentatively give my approval," Ison declared. "ISB will want a piece of this, however."  
Dekai was unable to hide his annoyance for the briefest of moments, but quickly recovered. "I was accounting for the possibility of a joint program," he admitted.

The holoprojector winked out and Dekai stepped down from the stage. Calder gave him a nod of approval before engaging in conversation with the others. Kel descended from his second row seat to join Dekai at the foot of the dias.

"Why exactly did I need to be here for this?" he asked. "I don't see what all of your schemes have to do with me."

"Hmph," Dekai sniffed. "Who do you think I want to be in charge of building my fleet of Imperial pirate ships?"

Suddenly the doors at the top of the room opened and the low volume conversation within was interrupted by that of a man shouting at the top of his lungs.

"I want his head!" shouted Chief Supervisor Fae Tan, who had been stunned not an hour prior. "I want Dekai, shoot him!" he shouted, his face red with anger, sweat dripping from his forehead.

The stormtroopers guarding the doorway looked at the irate man in confusion. Ison's bodyguards raised their weapons, pointing them not at Dekai, but at Fae Tan instead.

"What's the meaning of this?" Ison asked.

"He had me shot! He...stole my prisoner. That one!" Tan shouted, pointing now at Kel. "Rebus, I want him dead. Now!"

"Are you trying to give orders to a superior officer?" Dekai asked calmly, an amused look on his face.

"I'm well aware of Special Agent Dekai's actions," Divit revealed. "He acted with my approval."

Fae Tan momentarily halted his descent down the aisle, apparently stunned by his superior officer's betrayal. "You are aware of what I'm trying to cover up. You are aware that Director Isard's daughter is the culprit. You think it won't come down on my head if she isn't cleared."

"Well there we have it, Attendent Pereth has been declared innocent," Dekai said. "Why don't you delete Pluk Huff's personnel file, we'll all pretend like he never existed, and then we can all go about our lives."

"What did you just say about trying to give orders to a superior officer?" Tan angrily growled.

"Chief Supervisor, you are embarrassing this agency," Divit declared, suddenly growing furious. "Get out. Now."

"You're siding with him? Slimy, shady, back-stabbing Dekai?"

"You're fired. You are no longer an agent of Imperial Intelligence. Now get out before I have you shot," Divit said, his voice growing coldly serious.

Fae Tan's anger vanished in a vacuum of shock, his eyes flicking towards the death troopers flanking Horus Ison. He glanced at Dekai once last time, his eyes full of hate, before turning and exited the room.

"Well, that was entertaining," Krennic offered, breaking the tense atmosphere within the room. "But I've got a man to see about some crystals." Orson approached Dekai as he made his way towards the central aisle. "Let me know if you get any leads on the pirate that hit my convoy."

"It would help if you told me what they made off with," Dekai responded.

"That's above your pay grade," Krennic smirked.

oOoOo

Cereen's nostrils flared at the smell of the medcenter on Druckenwell Station. Her senses were assaulted by the sting of sterilizing alcohol, the spicy twang of recycling bacta, and the blandness of the air blowing in from the overhead filters. A mechanical buzzing droned out of the FX-series medical droids which occupied the room, the cylindrical, many-armed machines slowly milling about. She stepped aside as one passed, wary of bumping into any of its scalpel tipped arms. She was pretty sure that they were programmed to do no harm, the droids were doctors after all...but this was the Empire. She couldn't rule it out that adherence to standard medical ethics oaths had been left out of their programming.

From across the room a mechanical whir interrupted the persistent white noise of the medcenter. Senior Operative Kolija, wearing a dark grey medical robe, entered the room, pushed in a hover chair by a human nurse. Cereen saluted respectfully, looking professional wearing her grey dress uniform, her long blonde hair tied back in a bun.

"Relax," he said, unable to return the salute due to plastoid bacta wrap currently covering his upper torso. "I see you've got another rank square."

"Yes sir," Cereen answered. "Thank you."

"Oh no, thank you," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "You saved my life back on that moon. And you impressed the Inquisitor as well."

"Was he? He didn't seem particularly effusive."

"If types like that aren't threatening to kill you, you're doing a good job," Kolija stated. He motioned to the nurse, who removed a small black box from his uniform pocket. Cereen took the box from the nurse, staring down at it in puzzlement.

"I wanted to give you this myself, after I completed my treatment regimen. The Inquisitor recommended you for it." Cereen opened the box, revealing an aurodium nine pointed star, inlaid with a red gem.

"A Crimson Star? I don't know what to say."

"Oh, thank you sir," Kolija said, raising his deep voice several octaves in imitation of Cereen. "All I've ever wanted is your praise sir. My heart is all a-flutter sir."

Cereen cast an imperious look at her commander before smiling in amusement. She removed the star from the box and pinned it to her uniform just underneath her rank squares. "What now? Do we have a new mission?"

"Well, as you can see I'm not exactly in fighting condition," Kolija said as the nurse left the room. "The squad is being temporarily broken up."

"Broken up? I've only been on one mission."

"And just how well you performed on that one mission. Surprised the karking hells out of me."

"Sir?"

"Well, no offense, but you are much more dangerous than you appear."

Cereen hesitated. "I think I do take offense at that…"

"Nevermind," Kolija sighed. "Everyone in the squad is being reassigned until I can resume command. You and R's are going back to Imperial Center."

"What is our new assignment?"

"No idea," Kolija said. "You will be reporting to the Renik division. A Special Agent named Dekai. R's already has your transfer orders, I'd get with him."

"Yes sir."

"Good luck Attendant."

Several hours later Cereen found herself sitting across from R's, the aging clone already snoring as their lambda-class transport pulled away from Druckenwell Station. She glanced down at the new medal adorning her chest. She missed her father badly, and although she would be unable to divulge the details about the mission in which she had won the honor, she knew he would be proud of her.

Outside the viewport the Druckenwell system vanished in the swirl of hyperspace. Cereen settled in for the long flight back to Imperial Center, the case containing her father's rifle at her feet.

oOoOo

"Intensify axial turbolasers!" Captain Falkum of the Imperial-class Star Destroyer _Inferno Star_ shouted. He gripped the edges of the bridge holoprojector as the ship shook from multiple impacts. Multiple squadrons of TIE fighters flitted around the ship, firing at the pirates as they circled. The _Hunter_ , represented by an orange arrow from the holoprojector, currently hovered in front of his face. He reached out and clenched his fist around the image, wishing he could use the Force like Darth Vader and crush the ship from across the system.

Hours earlier the _Inferno Star_ had received a distress call from an Imperial convoy and had happened to be only a few parsecs away. Falkum, who had been promoted to Captain at the young age of twenty-eight only a year and a half prior, was eager to prove himself. But the battle was not at all going well.

The system was unnamed, simply an uninhabited place for ships to stop and reorient themselves for their next jump into hyperspace. The _Hunter_ had been sitting in place on the other side of the system ever since they had arrived, as if daring them to give chase. As soon as Falkum had obliged his prey every asteroid along on their approach vector suddenly began careening towards them. Now his TIE fighters and turbolaser batteries were attempting to not only fight the enemy, but also prevent the _Inferno Star_ from becoming a hulk of twisted durasteel.

The pirates were flying a myriad array of fighters, from upgunned civilian craft to outmoded Clone Wars era ships. In an even fight his fighters should have been able to mop them up. But as it was he was forced to divert half his forces towards picking off errant space rocks.

Falkum brought his fist down onto the holoprojector and then strode over to the helmsman's crew pit. "Pilot," Falkum shouted.

"Yes, sir."

"Sublight engines to full. Plot a course directly at the _Hunter."_ Falkum turned from the helmsman and approached the shields crew pit. "Redirect power from the turbolasers. Double the forward and bridge tower shields." Next he approached the commander in the crew pit that was in charge of the turbolaser batteries. "Cease fire."

"Aye captain."

Falkum's first mate approached from the forward viewport. "Sir, what about the asteroids?"

"We'll outrun them," Falkum said, his voice full of anger and determination. The ship shuddered from multiple impacts, the guns no longer firing to prevent the nearest asteroids from hitting them. But after their brief period of vulnerability the rest of the space rocks, which apparently had been rigged with sublight engines, could no longer catch up with the destroyer. Falkum watched as the _Hunter_ turned away from the convoy and began to flee from the approaching Imperials. The rest of the pirate starfighters scattered in every direction.

"Order our fighters to let them flee. Focus on the _Hunter."_ His first mate relayed the command and Falkum watched the holoprojector as the several remaining squadrons of TIEs broke off and began to pursue the fleeing Venator-class cruiser. But the TIE fighters weren't fast enough. The _Hunter_ vanished into hyperspace just as the _Inferno Star_ was nearing firing range.

Falkum stared at the bit of empty space that his evasive enemy had just occupied, his anger doubling in intensity.

"Captain, should I order the turbolasers to resume firing? Those asteroids are still coming at us," his first mate asked.

"Yes...wait a moment," he said before stopping. Falkum had already begun imagining the reprimands from his superiors for this defeat. But if they could glean useful intelligence from the _Hunter's_ ambush he could turn defeat into a strategic victory. "Order the ion cannons to target some of the asteroids and then grab them with the tractor beams. If we can't capture any of the pirates at least we can capture some of their gear. Maybe we can find out where they are getting their supplies."

As blue bursts of energy began striking out from the _Inferno Star_ Captain Falkum was already departing the bridge, eager to examine some of the asteroids himself once they were brought into the hangar.


	19. Chapter 18: Homecoming

Chapter Eighteen

The world of Mataou stood out amongst the black of space like an orb that had been bleached white by the heat of its star. The dry desert world lay in the heart of the Anoat sector, deep within the Outer Rim territories. For millennia it had served as a tomb world for the Hutts, the slug-like gangsters who had their grubby fingers in almost every criminal enterprise in the galaxy.

A slab grey frigate, shaped not unlike a seafaring vessel of old, appeared out of hyperspace, flanked by two mandalorian built _Dunelizard_ -class starfighters, their short wings tapering backwards elegantly into tails. The frigate, the flagship of crime lord Pouliac the Hutt, descended through the atmosphere of the planet, its flat belly soaking up any atmospheric heat that wasn't whisked away by its shields. The surface of Mataou rose up to meet the vessel, a maze of canyons and pits stretching out to the horizons.

The ship passed over numerous abandoned palaces and tomb complexes, half of them covered in sand and dust. Once Mataou had been bustling, with each Hutt kajidic, the hutteese name for their clan-like criminal families, establishing a palace on the surface. But the days of colonial activity had long passed, leaving a vast number of empty complexes dotting the canyon filled planet.

But one of those palaces was no longer empty. Pouliac the Hutt, the ruler of his kajidic, had come out on the losing end of a crime war on the Hutt homeworld of Nal Hutta. Exiled, he had been forced to rebuild his empire from this nearly forgotten corner of the galaxy. Pouliac's palace sat on the edge of a deep canyon, hugging the cliffside like a parasite. The canyon wall to which the palace clung descended thousands of meters before it reached the bottom, so deep that water could flow freely without evaporating away, even if it was a briny toxic soup.

The palace was built in the classical style of Hutt architecture, which had been in its heyday long before the fall of the Republic. Huge cylindrical towers rose into the air, surrounded by many levels of concourses and terraces. The off-white stone would have blended in with the surrounding scrubland if it weren't accented by the rusty hue of the tower's dome-like roofs. The terraces were decorated here and there with huge blood-red archways. Some of them served ceremonial purposes, like the enormous one at the palace's grand entrance, while others were merely ornamental. Everywhere orange banners shifted in Mataou's lazy breeze, each one decorated with a spiral seashell, the sigil of Pouliac's clan.

The ship slowed its descent until it came to a stop just meters from a terrace that overhung the cliffside. A crowd of green skinned, pig-like gamorreans emerged from the entrance to the palace. They lined up on either side of the platform as an unloading ramp folded out from the hull of the frigate. Unlike an Imperial honor guard, however, the dim witted gamorreans were unable to line themselves up perfectly with one another. Huge durasteel crates began to descend from the loading ramp, carried out by slow moving hover-sleds. One of the gamorreans standing at attention half a meter out of line was forced to scramble out of the way as one of the crates threatened to bowl him over. The gamorrean bumped into another of his comrades, who angrily shoved him away. The two began to shout and snort in their guttural language, and before long were swinging at each other with their vibro-axes.

Soon that entire left-hand side of the honor guard descended into chaos as the other gamorreans watched the duel unfold. As they traded blows a blaster shot rang out from the top of the loading ramp, striking one of the combatants in the back and killing him immediately. The gamorrean's body went limp and tumbled over the side of the terrace, falling thousands of meters towards the canyon floor.

"Get back in line!" shouted a bipedal, lizard-like trandoshan warrior, who stood at the top of the ramp. He held the heavy blaster rifle that had struck the gamorrean dead, smoke still rising out the barrel. The other gamorreans stared at the trandoshan for a moment in a mixture of surprise and fear before obeying. The guards quickly got back into the closest thing to a straight line that they could manage. The trandoshan to begin descend the ramp, his tongue flicking between his sharp teeth in contempt as he shifted his eyes between both lines of gamorreans.

"How many of them have you killed this month, Lomargar?" came a mechanically filtered voice from the top of the ramp. Lomargar turned to find Pouliac's majordomo descending the ramp, a niemodian woman who had once held a high ranking post with the now defunct Trade Federation,

"I don't keep track," Lomargar answered, his voice lacking any sign of deference towards her.

"Every one of them you kill is one more we have to replace and train," she admonished, stepping aside as another crate descended the ramp from behind them.

"I don't get paid to worry about training gamorreans, Agarma" the trandoshan snarled, fingering the trigger of his rifle. "And I don't answer to you. I answer to Pouliac."

"I'll remember that when his excellence sends you to Gamorr to pick up more of them because you've deplenished the numbers of his guard. But that cesspool of a world probably reminds you of home, so I'm sure you would enjoy the trip."

Lomargar moved as if to strike the niemodian but she stood her ground, the cybernetic implants she had for eyes staring at him unblinking. After a moment he hissed angrily, turned away, and stomped towards the palace like a petulant child.

Agarma stood at the bottom of the ramp and watched as the cargo continued to be unloaded. Soon the item she awaited emerged from the innards of the ship. A bruised and beaten nautolan woman, trailed by a pair of weequay guards and a klatoonian armed with a heavy repeating blaster rifle, stepped out into the Mataoun sunlight.

"Make sure the prisoner is sent directly to the dungeons, Moabis," Agarma ordered, eyeing the klatoonian.

"Yes, mistress," the klatoonian answered, bowing slightly in respect. Agarma watched as the prisoner was led towards the palace until she heard an angry grumble from the top of the ramp. Pouliac emerged from the hold at last, slithering angrily out of his ship.

"Master," she said, bowing in respect. Pouliac waved his hand at her dismissively, his eyes darting towards the twin lines of gamorreans standing at attention.

"I want the turbolasers unpacked immediately," Pouliac ordered in hutteese, his voice a deep rumbling grumble.

"They will be," Agarma said assuredly. "I consulted with our techs on the way from Formos, and the sensor stations have already been activated. Your fortress will be fully operational before the end of the day."

"Good," Pouliac said. Agarma quickened her pace as her boss slithered towards the entrance of his palace. "Jabba is already mocking me."

"Besides Jabba, we must also worry about the Imperials. They've placed a bounty on your head," Agarma said. Pouliac stopped suddenly and stared at his subordinate angrily, but she stared back unflinchingly, just as she faced Lomargar.

"I want to speak to the local Moff. What little human scum has the Empire put in charge here?" Pouliac asked.

"The Empire has not formally incorporated this sector, as of yet. General Adelhard is in charge of the garrison on Anoat...however, I would advise against establishing contact with him," Agarma said firmly.

"Why?"

"The Empire does not know you've re-established your kajidic here. All of our defenses will be useless if they send an Imperial Star Destroyer to bombard your palace from orbit."

"They wouldn't dare," Pouliac stated, puffing up his obese chest. "This palace has stood for a thousand years."

"So did the Republic," Agarma pointed out. "But the Empire saw an end to that. If you wish I could send a representative, however, General Adelhard will quickly assume we have set up here on Mataou. It is well known that this planet was once part of your people's domain."

"Forget it," Pouliac spat, physically shoving Agarma away. He turned from his advisor and began to slither towards his palace.

"My lord," Agarma said, ignoring his violence and resuming her position beside him. "If you wish I could send an agent to contact the Imperials from another sector. Your cousin is currently on Coruscant."

"Pokama? She'll betray me. She's wanted my position for decades," Pouliac said, shaking his head.

"If she betrays you she will have little left to inherit," Agarma pointed. Pouliac stared at her for a moment, and she could imagine invisible wheels slowly turning inside the Hutt's thick skull.

"Fine. Do it," he said finally, turning away from her and slithering towards his palace. The twin lines of gamorreans followed, leaving Agarma behind to stand alone in the dry heat of Mataouan afternoon as the last bits of cargo were unloaded from the frigate.

oOoOo

"The ship is now entering Imperial Center space. Please stow your belongings and return to your seats as we enter the atmosphere." The pilot's voice coming through the transport's internal speakers sounded bored and monotone, as if he had made this trip thousands of times. As Cereen roused herself and attempted to stretch out the horrible kinks in her body that came from spending hours in an sitting in an uncomfortable chair, she figured that the pilot probably _had_ made this trip thousands of times.

"Are we there yet?" R's said, his voice hoarse and betraying his fatigue.

"It seems that way," Cereen answered. She tried not to stare at the clone as he stretched, just as she herself had just done. Despite having already served in combat with him she still couldn't quite shake the eerie feeling that snuck up on her everytime she looked at him or heard him speak. She had seen his face a thousand times in the holo documentaries and dramas from the Clone Wars, ever since she was a child. Of course, it wasn't _his_ face, exactly. It was the face of the millions of genetically identical soldiers who had fought on the Republic's behalf alongside him. "Can I ask a personal question?"

R's turned his neck, which popped loudly, and looked at her with interest for the first time since they had departed from Druckenwell Station. "After how well you performed at Bothawui, I suppose you've earned at least one question."

"Are you a first generation clone?" She had worried he would find the question offensive, but if he did he didn't show it on his aged face.

"Heh, no, there aren't any first genners left in service," R's grunted. "I may look ancient, but I'm not quite that old. I entered service right as the Outer Rim Sieges began, in the last year of the war."

"I'm sorry," Cereen apologized. "It's just that I grew up following the war on the holonet. I grew up knowing your face, seeing your brothers patrol the Federal District. I knew what your voice would sound like before I heard you speak, before our mission to Bothawui. Yet I had never met you. It's just an odd feeling."

"When you grow up surrounded by those who look and sound identical to yourself, it's odd when you first meet someone different," R's said. "How old were you back then?"

"Thirteen years old when the war ended."

"You're technically older than I am," he said with a light chuckle.

"It doesn't feel that way though, does it."

"No," he agreed. "But combat ages you real quick, even if I didn't have to deal with the Kaminoan's making sure I'd reach middle age by my tenth birthday."

"I'm sorry for what they did to you."

"Don't be," R's said. "I wouldn't exist otherwise. I'm proud of my service, and for what service I have left to give, short as it may be."

"I just wish everyone was more appreciative of what you and the other clones accomplished back then."

R's paused for a moment, considering her as the shuttle began to shake with turbulence as they descended towards the city. "If you are looking for appreciation for what you do, in this line of work, you should give up and look for something else. Medals notwithstanding," he added, glancing pointedly at the Crimson Star she wore over the breast of her uniform.

"Like what?" she asked.

"...I don't know. If you figure it out, get back to me," he said. Several minutes of silence passed between them as the lambda-class transport joined the flow of traffic that constantly streamed through Coruscant's skies. "Have you seen our orders?" R's asked, interrupting the silence.

"Senior Operative Kolija told me get aboard before you took off. He said we were reporting to Renik, to Special Agent Dekai. I'm assuming you know the details."

"Yeah, conference room 43-b at nine hundred hours tomorrow morning. You sound like you've met this special agent before."

"Um," Cereen began, thinking back to her arrest outside of the Painted Rancor bar, and how Dekai had subsequently sprung Kel and herself from interrogation. "You could say that. He's pretty decent, for an officer, you know."

"Good to hear," R's said. He stood up just the transport touched down. "See you there, Attendant," he said, throwing her a casual salute as he grabbed his bag and departed down the transport's center aisle.

Several hours later Cereen found herself standing at the entrance to her father's apartment building. She gripped the handle of her rifle's case in one hand and the nerf-leather strap of her travel bag in the other as she entered the tower's lobby. This tower was not the one she had grown up in as a child. That building had been destroyed during the battle of Coruscant. Neither was it the one that she had resided in over in the Hirkenglade precinct, which was now sitting empty ever since she had been recruited to Imperial Intelligence. This lobby was finished with black polished marble and thick red carpet, accented with golden aurodium. She could hardly believe her father had landed an apartment in such a posh location.

She approached the security station and stepped through the scanners, which promptly shouted a high pitched alarm. A human with dark skin approached, holding up his hand and eyeing his datapad with widened eyes.

"Ma'am, stop there. I need you to put down the case," he ordered, one hand gesturing for her to halt while the other removed a blaster from his holster. She smiled in amusement and placed her rifle case on the ground. She held up her hands as the guard approached warily. "I need your identification card."

"Back pocket," she said simply. He reached behind her and pulled her wallet from the back pocket of her trousers. He examined it silently for a moment and then his eyes widened even more, if it were possible.

"I'm sorry," he exclaimed. "I didn't know you were a government agent."

She glanced down at her grey military dress uniform. "Well, I just wear this for the fun of it," she said. She took her wallet back as he handed it to her and returned it to her back pocket. "I'll be off then."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, bowing slightly. "Again I'm…"

"You were just doing your job," she reassured him. "No worries." She picked up her rifle case and the went down the corridor until she reached the turbolifts. Moments later she arrived on the two hundredth floor. It was a short walk down the hall until she reached the entrance to her father's apartment. She stopped in front of the door and blinked in surprise as a facial recognition scanner lit up. The scanner happily chimed and the door opened with a woosh. Cereen stepped through.

The entryway to the apartment gave way to a wide and expansive, central living room. A comfortable looking couch with black nerf-leather upholstery sat in front of a wall mounted holoprojector. A small caf table in front of the couch was littered with datacards and plastoid file folders. To her right a doorway led the kitchen, which had a barside window allowing one to sit and eat from the living room side of the countertop. She glanced through the window, noticing the numerous empty caf mugs and baked circle pie containers littered about.

She heard footsteps approaching from across the living room and turned find her father standing before her. He was barefooted and wore simple pajamas, likely the same ones he had slept in the previous night. He had grown out his beard, but had kept it neatly trimmed. His bald head featured a slight sunburn, with the area around his eyes escaping the redness that covered his face in the exact shape of a pair of safety goggles.

"Hi Dad," Cereen said, smiling happily. She place her bags upon the floor and quickly allowed her father to wrap her up in a quick but gentle hug.

"Look at you," he said, taking a step backwards. He ran his eyes over her, from head to toe, and taking in her uniform. "Is that a Crimson Star?"

"Yeah, I earned it after my first mission. I...can't talk much about it, but…"

"I understand," he nodded. "I'm guessing my old X-45 is serving you well."

"I think that's a fair statement." She glanced around the room, resting her gaze pointedly on the cluttered caf table. "Are you working again?"

"Yeah, I've been doing some consulting work for a security firm…" he looked around the room, a slightly embarrassed look passing over his face. "Retirement didn't agree with me."

"I can see that," she commented. "You aren't doing anything dangerous, right?"

"Well...I'm not walking a beat again, if that's what you mean."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." He walked into the kitchen and retrieved a container of purple blumfruit juice from his cooler. "Do you want anything?"

"No thank you. I can't stay long, I need to run some errands before I report for duty tomorrow morning," she answered.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked after taking a quick sip of his juice. Cereen was struck that his tone so oddly mirrored her own when she had spoke to R's on the transport.

"Of course."

"Do you like what you do? Do you enjoy working for the Empire?"

Cereen paused before answering. "If you're hinting at a private sector job offering, I don't think Imperial Intelligence will appreciate me trying to jump ship so soon after joining."

"No, I'm not offering you a job. I'm just asking if you're okay with who you're working for?"

"Why wouldn't I be? And why didn't you bring these kinds of questions up before I was recruited, instead of afterwards."

"Because I'm a terrible father," he answered, sighing softly. "A lot of my work is confidential, but I can say that I'm doing threat assessment for some prominent leaders in the local government. And a few who are not so local...The Empire continues to add sectors and assert itself throughout every layer of society, but cracks are starting to show. Not even your I.I and the I.S.B combined can keep the truth entirely out of the holonet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Anoat, Gholondreine-B, Ghorman...all those worlds the Empire has devastated in the Western Reaches in order to keep up the expansion of the fleet. And now add Caamas to the list."

Cereen shifted uncomfortably. The riot that she and Kel had got caught up in had started because of the Caamas firestorm. "You've served the government your whole life Dad. I'm just following in your footsteps."

"I was police officer my whole life. A far cry from a secret service sniper. And all but ten years of that service was for the Republic, not the Empire...look, all I'm saying is that the afterglow of the Clone Wars is starting to fade. Everyone wanted a return to normalcy, everyone wanted an end to the corruption and infighting of the Republic. But if the Empire keeps on stomping all over people's homeworlds, keeps expanding COMPNOR's reach, the cracks are going to grow."

"...I'd keep this kind of talk to yourself," Cereen said, her expression full of concern rather than anger.

"All I'm saying is, don't let lose yourself in duty. No matter how many medals they give you."

"Dad…"

He held his hands up in a signal of relief. "Your mother lived her whole life trying to help the downtrodden. She died while trying to make sure her firm's clients could get to safety during a full blown battle. I don't think she'd want you to serve the Empire without question."

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between them. "You really do pick the worst moments to stop being distant," she said.

He began to clean up the mess on his caf table, scooping up datacards and rearranging them into neat stacks. "Just keep your head about you, Cereen. That's all I'm asking."

oOoOo

Kel walked between two massive rows of impounded and detained starships, his eyes wide with delight. The durasteel plated yard through which he walked lay between two massive city blocks in the shadow of the Bureau of Ships and Services, one of the biggest civilian government agencies in the galaxy. Ships and Services was responsible for maintaining and updating every stellar chart in the galaxy, as safe hyperspace routes were known to shift and change over time. They were also responsible for maintaining a registry of ships legally allowed to ply the space lanes of the universe. In order to carry freight or passengers, every ship had to pass inspection, and most sizeable worlds within the Empire had a Ships and Services department similar to, but usually smaller than, the one that Kel was now visiting.

A team of Imperial Intelligence technicians wearing utilitarian grey jumpsuits followed alongside him. He was still slightly perturbed that he now had subordinates, especially since he was at least a decade younger than all of them. But the untimely death of Supervisor Huff had brought some changes to the Development Department. Firstly, Operative Van, who had been reasonably friendly to Kel, had been promoted to fill Huff's vacant position. She in turn had chosen Kel to prototype a new program, specifically outfitting civilian vessels and turning them into black ops pirate ships. He realized that Dekai had played a part in this new position that had been created for him, but he couldn't bring himself to resent the Special Agent for it.

The myriad number of ships surrounding him were all medium freighters, representing almost every major shipyard in the galaxy. Some looked pristine, others looked like they were about to fall apart. But gradually, as Kel moved down the line, the derelict ships began to outnumber the ones that were still in good shape.

"Sir," came a shrill but respectful voice from behind. Kel turned to find a Ships and Services official running towards him. The man was wearing a black and grey uniform, which appeared to be a demilitarized version of an Imperial Navy uniform. His skin was pale, as if he either didn't get outside much or he lived on a level of the city that was permanently shadowed by taller buildings. "We had a team awaiting you towards the turbolift. We had prepared a... _guided_...tour of our facility."

"I don't care about your facility," Kel said. "I care about ships."

"Of course, sir," the official said. "I was told you were going to be making acquisitions. Would you like to me to direct you towards the ships that are up for public auction?"

Kel thought back to the briefing Van had given him before he had set off this morning. Any ships that were up for auction would be searchable in public databases through the holonet, even if they were sold to one of the many shell companies that Imperial Intelligence owned. If he bought ships that were up for auction, anyone who wished to discover the origins of one of the ship would be able to do so through a few simple searches. "No, I don't want those. What about the ones that are being scrapped?"

"Uh, why would Imperial Intelligence be interested in acquiring scrapped vessels?"

Kel glanced at some of the tech's who accompanied him. One of them, a women about fifteen years older than himself with dark skin and black hair, exchanged a knowing look with him. "Does it matter why?" he asked.

The official seemed to realize he was asking too many questions. "Oh, of course not sir. My apologies. All of the ships in this section have either already been sold for scrap or have been marked to be sold."

"What's wrong with that one?" the tech with black hair asked, gesturing toward a Sorosuub freighter that looked to be in good condition.

"It failed to sale at auction," the official answered simply.

"If a ship was used for criminal enterprises and has a lot of black marks on its record, buyers might avoid it for fear of being tainted by its history," Kel said. "Even if it's in good quality."

"Quite right, sir," the official agreed. Kel continued to move down the line of ships. He passed over the Sorosuub models, as he felt that corporation had too many ties to the Imperial government. He spotted several narrow Gozanti-class cruisers, one of the most ubiquitous medium transports in the galaxy. It was made by the Corellian Engineering Corporation, which wouldn't necessarily be associated with the Empire since that company built such a large number of ships, all the way from light freighters to corvettes. However, the Gozanti class was so useful it had already been modified and pressed into service as a transport by the Empire, and was therefore unsuitable for their purposes. He likewise passed over a Cygnus Spaceworks transport, as that corporation's primary customer was also the Empire.

"What about this one?" asked one of the other techs, a heavily built man with a bald head and several prominent scars. Kel couldn't remember his name but had been told he had once been a stormtrooper.

Kel looked over at the ship the man pointed at, a saucer shaped YT-1300 Corellian medium freighter. Ostensively it met all of their requirements. Ships of this model, and similar models, were common throughout the galaxy. They were known to be popular amongst pirates, smugglers, and bounty hunters, especially because of how easy they were to modify and upgrade. And they had no connection to the Imperial Navy. "Too obvious," Kel said after some hesitation. Modifying a YT model wasn't enough of a challenge.

They continued down the line until Kel stopped suddenly. He spotted a particularly dilapidated ship, a Barloz-class medium freighter, also built by the Corellians. Kel immediately remembered that his father's corporation had owned dozens of them. Shaped like the bullet in a old fashioned slug-thrower, the hull of this particular vessel was so thoroughly rusted out in some places that he could see into the interior of the sip. The canopy of the bridge was smashed out, and two of the eight boxy engine nacelles at the back were missing.

"Seriously?" the black haired tech asked when she realized which ship was drawing Kel's interest. "This thing is in even worse shape than that YT-1300. At least that ship would look stylish once it was refurbished. This one is…."

"Boring," Kel interrupted. "It's completely boring, and probably a hundred years old. It's exactly the kind of ship we're looking for."

"This ship isn't even flight worthy," the Ships and Services official said with a frown.

"That's not a problem," Kel responded, salivating as the thoughts of what he could do with the nearly unlimited budget Imperial Intelligence was giving him to refurbish this ship. "What is it called?"

The official pulled a handheld datapad from his pocket and looked up the Barloz-class freighter's serial number. "It's transponder code designates it as the _Firepetal Oath._ It's history is….extensive."

" _Firepetal Oath?_ " Kel repeated, an odd feeling tickling his memory. _Why does that name sound familiar?_ "What is the ship's recent history?"

"Well, it was impounded after security officers arrested some miscreants who were using it as living quarters over in the Factory District. Its last registered owner was an terrestial bound freight hauling company, who reported it stolen two years ago. Before that it was owned by a specialty foodstuffs company, a convicted smuggler who bought it in a black market auction, a shipping company from Corellia…"

"Stop," Kel ordered. "Let me see that." The official handed over his datapad, his expression a mix of annoyance and deference. The techs stared at him as he scanned through the ownership log, but he ignored their looks of concern and alarm. Finally he arrived at the entry that had set him off. 'Owner: Pereth Shipping Corporation, registered at Coronet City, Corellia. 12,500 Republic credits. Specialty Freight status…' "I can't believe it…"

"What is it?" the black haired tech finally asked.

"What? It's nothing…" Kel said, tearing his eyes away from the datapad and staring at the ship. His father had owned that ship. He remembered only loose details of his parent's life before they had married, but he knew that they had fallen in love on Corellia. His father had started his company shipping artifacts dug up by his mother's archeology program, before they had moved to Jappa together. "We'll take this ship. How much?"

"The scrap value is two thousand three hundred credits."

"Imperial Intelligence will transmit the credits."

"Sir, are we seriously going to be working on this piece of junk?" the black haired tech asked.

"Yes, we are," Kel assured her. "Why don't you…"  
"...Luana…" she said, reminding him of her name.

"Right, Luana. You and others arrange to have the _Oath_ hauled back to headquarters. Stow it in one of the service bays, keep it off the Floor. Once it is put to bed I want a thorough examination so I can start putting together design and overhaul specs. I'll do a spot check before you get started though." Kel pretended not to notice the look of disgust on her face as she gazed at the freighter. He didn't know what the chances were that he would randomly discover one of the ship's his father had owned halfway across the galaxy, but he wasn't going to let it slip away.

Luana looked at him askance as he continued to stare at the ship, an odd look on his face. "Yes sir," she agreed with skepticism.


	20. Chapter 19: Chandrila

**Chapter Nineteen**

Signs of activity echoed throughout Pouliac's palace. The skilled technicians the Hutt crime lord had at his disposal were busy renovating the ancient complex, on their way towards making it a suitable habitation for their master and the needs of his kajidic. In the depths of the dungeon levels the bustle was reduced to a dull throbbing, punctuated occasionally by high pitched wail of electro-drills and the thunderous hammering of hydraulic chisels.

The sounds of construction took on a musical quality with the addition of water dripping in exacting measure upon the stone floor. The condensation was caused by the poor plumbing that had just been reinstalled in the ancient Hutt complex. The pipes were not insulated, and were surprisingly effective at sapping moisture from the dry planet's air.

There was no artificial lighting of any kind in the dungeon, only the pale light of Mataou's sun squeezing itself through the narrow slit that passed itself off as a window. A nautolan woman lay in a heap inside one of the dungeon cells. Some of her head-tresses, the tendril like appendages that attached to her skull, had been cut away and fitted with metallic-fiber caps, laced with bacta. The caps were enough to keep the wonds from getting infected, but not enough to heal. Pouliac didn't want her to heal.

Footsteps interrupted the rhythmic patter of the moisture droplets. The nautolan turned her head just enough to see that a klatoonian descended the stairs that led to the upper levels. She did not have the energy to raise herself from the floor.

"I bring medicines," the klatoonian stated. The canine-like biped, who wore dark brown armor over the top of a worn rag-like tunic, knelt before the bars of the cell and placed a few pills on the floor. The faint sunlight reflected reflected against the translucent pills, casting red and blue light over the nautolan's face. "Will help," she added.

"I...don't want your medicine," the nautolan managed to say, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"Is painkillers...make torture seem like dream," the klatoonian said. The nautolan's head tendril's twitched for a moment as she considered, then she quickly scooped up the pills with her head and shovelled them into her mouth. "Nightmare almost over."

"Good," the nautolan sighed, her body already beginning to relax in response to the medication. "I want it to end."

"It will. Soon. But you will not die," she answered. "I am Moabis, on word of clan and pack, you will leave this place." At that Moabis left the nautolan behind, exiting the dungeon and arriving in the palace's main concourse. She turned to find Lomargar and two gamorreans heading towards her.

"What are you doing?" Lomargar asked, flicking his tongue between his sharp teeth. Moabis knew he was smelling the air with his tongue, trying to detect the pheremones that could indicate if she were lying or nervous.

"Checking on prisoner," Moabis answered, keeping her emotions calm, betraying nothing.

"It's not your job to check on the prisoner. That pirate scum isn't going anywhere," Lomargar snarled.

"Agarma says check, I check," Moabis said. Lomargar stared her down, his distaste for her growing to new heights ever since the battle on Formos. Pouliac and Agarma had not been happy with his performance. It had been Moabis who had ensured their mission was a success.

"Out of the way," he hissed, pushing her aside as he and the gamorreans headed towards the dungeon. Moabis reacted in an instant, retrieving a knife hidden within her armor and placing its sharp edge against the trandoshan's throat.

"You will not touch Moabis again, or master will need find new commander," Moabis snarled, baring her canine-like teeth.

Logarmar stepped backwards carefully, pushing the Moabis' forearm and thus the knife away from himself. The two gamorreans stared at them gleefully, hoping to witness two of their superiors engage each other in combat, forgetting that they should probably come to Lomargar's aid.

"Watch your back, dog," Logarmar threatened simply. He turned from Moabis and descended the staircase leading towards the dungeons. The two gamorreans sighed in disappointment and followed reluctantly.

Moabis watched them go, placing her knife back into the sheath hidden in her uniform. "Chess ko...stupid lizard," she said, spitting on the ground before hurrying down the corridor.

oOoOo

Agent Dekai stood at the entrance to the service bay that Kel had stashed the _Firepetal Oath._ The dilapidated freighter had been hauled in on a hoverlift, and he had a feeling that the hoverlift had left a trail of rusted out durasteel in its wake across the city.

"Really, Kel?" Dekai said with a frown. "I give you a budget of half a million credits and you get this piece of junk."  
"Once its restored it will blend in," Kel responded. The young man stood next to Dekai, and together they watched as the techs pored over the ship. Half of them carried scanners and the others carried datapads. Together they could detect and catalogue every structural defect in the vessel, as well as any modifications that the ship's previous owners had made over the stock schematics. There were a lot of each. "There are hundreds of thousands of these ships still flying across the galaxy. I thought it would a perfect spy vessel. And after I'm done with it the ship will look generic on the outside, even be able to pass through customs. But you'll be able to take down ships twice its size and outfly anything you can't fight."

"We'll see," Dekai said, an edge of exasperation in his voice. "I'll soon have a list of requirements for you. Do you have the history of the ship on hand?" he asked, nodding towards the datapad that Kel carried.

"Um…" Kel said. "Yeah." He reluctantly handed over the datapad.

Dekai quickly scanned through the information, and then spotted what had made Kel so hesitant. "This ship once belonged to your father's shipping company." He narrowed his eyes. "You found this ship, the _Firepetal Oath,_ at the Ships and Services impound lot here on Imperial Center?"

"That's right," Kel admitted. "I wasn't searching for it, just randomly came across it."

"You should've purchased a different ship. Someone could do a history check and discover it once belonged to the father of an Imperial Intelligence agent."

"Would they really though? I'm sure that one of things on your list of requirements for the refit will include multiple transponders. One for travel in Imperial systems, one to use during pirate activity, another while masquerading as a civilian freighter. Anyway, aren't I supposed to be dead according to the official records on Jappa? Plus, purchasing this thing out of the scrapyard was supposed to be anonymous."

"...perhaps," Dekai agreed reluctantly. "Still, it was a completely reckless decision."

"Not the most reckless one I've ever made," Kel said to himself, thinking back to the results of his test flight on Jappa all those months ago.

Suddenly the special agent's comlink buzzed from his chest pocket, preventing him from further admonishing Kel. "Go ahead."  
"This is Kal Romaan, how is my friend in Imperial Intelligence doing?" came the coarse voice of the gangster through the comlink.

"I'm not in the mood for playing games," Dekai said. "Have you set up the contacts I required per our agreement?"

"Yes, I've made some progress on that front," Romaan began. "But something else has fallen into my lap that I thought you would be interested in. Or should I say, someone else."

"What are you talking about?" Dekai asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Ever since Pouliac hit my cantina I've have had my people snooping around for any of his associates here on Coruscant. We lifted Pokama, one of his cousins, while he was heading for the Imperial Senate building."  
Dekai closed his eyes quickly ran through the various reasons why the cousin of a Hutt crime lord would be heading for the Senate building. "Hold him for me, I'll meet you at your club," Dekai ordered.

"No problem," Romaan said. "I expect you to have that license we agreed on."

"You'll get your license after I meet with Pokama _and_ speak to the Blackpool Fliers, not before. And only then if I feel like you've earned it." Dekai clarified. A moment of silence transpired, during which Dekai was sure Romaan was trying to decide whether or not screaming through the comlink was a viable strategy. Clearly the gangster was not used to dealing with people who were not afraid of him.

"Fine, but you better not take forever, or I just might start removing limbs from the slug's body," he finally responded. The comlink beeped, signalling that Romaan had signed off from the call.

"That sounded like an interesting conversation," Kel said.

"Just focus on your task," Dekai answered, letting out a heavy sigh. "I want the ship ready within the week."

"Yes, sir," Kel said as the special agent quickly left the service bay. "Hurry up you bunch, I want three-dee holo-schematics in an hour!" he shouted at the techs.

oOoOo

Kasyndra Pereth lay on her back, resting upon a comfortable bed inside of Yan Po Lom's mandalorian built _Aka'jor_ -class transport. The cathar had given her this cabin when they had left Jappa, nearly six months ago. It wasn't big but there was just enough space for a full sized bed and a few cabinets in which to store clothes and belongings. Above her floated a hologram, projected from the ceiling. The image changed every ten seconds, first showing a picture of their home on Jappa, an upper class house in the suburbs of the capital. Next was an image of Kel in a formal suit. He had just graduated from primary school, and his eyes seemed eager for the future. The holoprojector shifted again and a family portrait appeared. Kasyndra had been a toddler when this image was taken. Her mother held her firmly as her two year old self attempted to wriggle away. Kel, four years old, stood beside their mother, a happy smile on his face. Their father had one hand on Kel's shoulder and the other around her mother's waist. It wasn't too long after this image was taken that their mother would disappear, never to return. No one had ever told her why she had vanished...until she had begun this journey with Yan Po Lom.

In the sixth months since since leaving Jappa the cathar had taken her across the galaxy. First they went to his homeworld of Cathar, which shared its name with his species. They had spent nearly a month there, during which she had met his family and clan. They had all been extremely gracious to her, and at first she had not known why. That was until Yan revealed his reasons for helping her find her mother, beyond his promise to Thane Pereth. The conversation had taken place on the balcony of a hut that overlooked a beautiful lake, softly rolling plains in the distance.

"Your father wanted me to keep this from you...and I always agreed it was best to do so. Yet I don't believe we can continue our journey any further if I don't disclose the truth," he said, his tail twitching nervously.

"The truth?" Kasyndra asked. "About what happened to my Mom?" Yan expected her to be eager for his disclosure, and was surprised to find her expression gloomy.

"Do you not want to know?"

"No, I do," Kasyndra said, shaking her head. "It's just...I wish my father could have told me."  
"He was afraid…" Yan began. "Your mother did not separate from you father willingly. She was forced to leave Jappa by the Imperials, by Governor Sant specifically. And your father feared that if you or Kel knew the truth, it could slip out and threaten your safety."

"Okay...but why did they force her to leave? What did she do that could prevent her from ever even contacting us?"

"She sheltered me…and other refugees like me through a refugee resettlement program that she ran through the Education department on Jappa. We were all refugees from worlds devastated by the Clone Wars."

"Why would sheltering refugees make the Governor come after her?"

"Because we were from Separatist worlds. He was looking for any excuse to get rid of her, as she was a political rival. But she fled before she could be arrested, before he could round up the refugees and label them enemies of the state. She made sure that hundreds escaped on a Pereth Shipping Co. freighter with her...I had many close friends and family among them. That is why your father has done his best to stay in the good graces of the Imperial government. To protect you, your brother...and myself."

Kasyndra had thought knowing the truth would make her feel better. She had thought it would vindicate her anger towards her father, her anger towards her mother for leaving. But instead it made her feel hollow.

After Cathar they travelled to Corulag. The heavily populated core world provided easy access to records that weren't available to the general public, but had less security than Coruscant. They gained access to the information they needed after Yan bribed the an Imperial official working in the local COMPNOR bureau. They searched for her mother's name, Asirya Par, in multiple databases and came up with nothing, confirming that her mother had not been arrested or imprisoned anywhere in the Empire. It wasn't an absolute confirmation that she was alive, and it still didn't give them a clue as to her location, but it eliminated some possibilities.

After Corulag they returned to Jappa. In order to prevent Kasyndra from being registered as a delinquent minor she had to take her primary school exit exam. She was taking it two years early...but she not only passed, she nearly scored as well as her brother. After her exams were out of the way she spoke to her father for the first time after leaving.

"I passed," she said, her voice sounding so much more mature even though so little time had transpired. She stood in her father's office, and he sat behind his desk, exactly where she had left him.

"Congratulations sweetie. I knew you would." Her father smiled but he couldn't hide the pained expression on his face. Or the sadness in his eyes.

"Yan told me what happened to Mom, why she had to leave," Kasyndra revealed.

"He had to, I suppose. I should've said something…"  
"Yes, you probably should have."

"...I just didn't want to put you in danger...especially after what happened to Kel."

"I'm not giving up on him. I believe he is out there, somewhere."

There was a pause. "I hope you're right," he sighed.

"Why just hope? Why don't you come search with us? Is your business really that much more important than your family?" Kasyndra said, tears welling up in her eyes.

A bit of anger flashed across her father's face, but it vanished quickly. He too seemed to have changed in the few months she had been away. "It's not about the business, Kasyndra...your mother didn't get all of the refugees off of Jappa. She didn't have a lot of time, and some refused to leave the homes they had just made and the lives they were beginning to rebuild. And there was a second freighter...it hadn't taken off when your mother evaded the Imperials. Stomtroopers came to our house, forced me to give them up...if I hadn't they would have killed both you before my eyes, and I couldn't let that happen."

"Is that why mother hasn't spoken to you? Because you betrayed the people she was trying to help?"

"Well," he began. "We spoke once after she got away, a few months later. I told her what happened to the other transport. What happened to the people who were on it...and _that_ was the last time I spoke to her. I didn't have her luxury, I couldn't leave my children in someone else's hands and run away," he added, his anger returning, but now directed off into the distance.

"But I didn't sell everyone out. I kept the identity of people like Yan, who stayed behind, a secret. There are more of them than were on that second transport. They're still here, and I'm doing everything I can for them. As covertly as possible…that's where a lot of our profits are going. It's why I can't just up and leave."

Kasyndra nodded. "But why couldn't you have said something? Why did you let me hate you instead of telling me about all this."

Thane laughed softly. "Because I'm paranoid. A lot of good it's done me…"

All of these memories played through Kasyndra's head as she stared at the hologram above her as it recycled back to the first image. A soft knock, or at least as soft as Yan could managed with his huge hands, came at the door of her cabin. Kasyndra jumped out of the bed and opened the door.

"We're almost to Chandrila," he announced. "Five minutes until we drop out of hyperspace."

"Good," Kasyndra said, brushing her pink hair out of her eyes. Together they walked through the common area on the small transport and into the bridge. She sat in the co-pilot's seat, and he in the pilot's. She had never had even a fraction of Kel's fascination with starships, but that hadn't stopped her from cajoling Yan into teaching her how to fly. She figured she was now a better pilot than Kel ever was...but that wasn't saying too much, as he had been rather terrible at it.

"You've never met your grandparents before?" Yan asked, casting a sidelong glance at her, his golden mane reflecting the flickering blue light of of hyperspace back at her.

"Never even spoke to them," Kasyndra answered. "I'm sure I would have someday...you know, if things hadn't gone sideways for my family."

"I hope they can point us in the right direction," he said.

"I hope so too...they are our last lead. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll be living with them."

"Unlikely, but one can only hope," Yan stated with a sigh.

The twirl of hyperspace vanished and the beautiful sphere that was Chandrila appeared in space before them. The pinkish sun reflected off of clouds that hung high in the atmosphere and sparkled off the skyscrapers that dotted the landscape in circular clusters. Off in the distance, just peaking over the curve of the horizon, a blue-green moon reflected even more light back at them.

Yan got onto the comm with traffic controllers in Chandrila's capital, Hanna City, gaining clearance to land as Kasyndra flew the ship. They descended through soft pink clouds before burst through the upper atmosphere. The city stretched out before them, and it was one of the most beautiful sights Kasyndra had ever seen.

Enormous tower complexes were arrayed in concentric circles around a huge dome-like governmental palace, which was shaped not unlike the Senate building on Coruscant. But unlike the shimmering metallic structure on Coruscant, this structure was made of stone and transparisteel. The transparisteel was arranged in swirls, giving the building the appearance of a spinning flower let loose in the wind. The landing pads arrayed around the perimeter reinforced this illusion, shaped as they were like the petals of a flower.

The other towers around the city rivalled any high-rise on Coruscant on sheer height, some of them reaching up into the clouds. But unlike Coruscant, whose surface was entirely covered in thousands upon thousands of layers, here the tower's enormous foundations were visible upon the ground, and they were not crowded in by other structures. Each tower stood free and tall, surrounded by parks, canals, and forest.

"We've been cleared to land at the northern landing zone. Pad 368-B," Yan informed her. She slowed their transport's speed and joined the flow of traffic. Their ship was shaped not unlike a decorative hair-comb, and as they came in for a landing she hit a switch on the console. The vessel's wings swung upwards, the forward tips of the wings now pointing towards the sky. There was a soft thump as the landing pads touched down. "Good landing."

They exited the shuttle and walked a short distance across the landing pad. There were no customs officials present to harass them like there would be on many other worlds. Their ship had been thoroughly scanned as they had come in for a landing, preventing the need for a manual inspection. Additionally, they were not required to pay docking fees until they wished to depart. Together they entered the interior of the spaceport.

"There's a terminal over there," Kasyndra said, nodding towards a wall that featured dozens of computer stations. Only a few of them were already occupied.

"Do you know to search for your grandparent's location?" Yan asked as she began to interact with a console's touchscreen interface. She hit an incorrect button and suddenly the console came to life.

"How may I assist you?" the console asked politely.

"I'm searching for Sorindt and Kamilla Par," she answered. "I need an address or a comm channel i.d."

"Searching…" the console stated. A moment later the relevant information appeared. Along with an obituary in a local holonews report.

"My grandfather is dead," Kasyndra said, her eyes going blank. "It only happened a few months ago." She slumped forward. If they had come straight to Chandrila instead of stopping on Cathar and Corulag she would have been able to meet him before he'd gone.

"I'm sorry, Kasyndra."

"How can I be upset about the death of someone I've never met...and it looks like he died peacefully." Yan glanced at her in concern, but she took a deep breath, quickly reading through more of the obituary. Her grandfather had been born eighty years before the Republic had turned into the Empire, and had worked in the planetary government, including as an ambassador. "They're older than I expected."

"But your grandmother is still alive?"

"Yeah, I've got an address and coordinates."

The pair travelled to their destination via taxi speeder, piloted by a droid, which carried them far outside of Hanna City and into Chandrila's rural countryside. Unlike Jappa, which consisted of untamed wilderness outside of the major cities, Chandrila was a landscape that had long ago been transformed into an idyllic garden. They passed rolling hills upon which windmills slowly churned in the breeze, although they were surely no longer necessary to provide energy. Gently flowing canals stretched out beneath them, upon which boats powered by enormous paddle wheels slowly trundled up and down the waterway. Herds of bovine-like nerf, which seemed to be grazing freely upon the emerald foothills of the central mountain range. There were no fences or any other barrier to constrain their migration.

As they neared her grandmother's estate the afternoon was quickly fading into evening. She peered over the side of the speeder and spotted a multi-level mansion surrounded by orderly gardens. The mansion was built of pink and white brick, the roof made of transparisteel that glittered in the rapidly fading sunlight. The speeder landed on a gravel pad which lay on the edge of a boreal forest. It appeared to be either late spring or early fall, although Kasyndra couldn't tell which was the case.

"You may remain here," Yan instructed the pilot droid as they disembarked from the speeder. They followed a path which was paved with fine, powdery white gravel. It sloped gently upwards towards the mansion, threading through a maze of tall hedge bushes. To each side of the path lay a bed of flowers, most of which Kasyndra did not recognize, and whose petals were of every color.

Although there were no obvious signs of security, there must have been passive scanners hidden amongst the flowers, for a silver 3PO model protocol droid intercepted them before they could reach the main doors of the mansion.

"Welcome to the Par estate," the droid said, bowing stiffly. "How may I help you?" it asked, it's voice robotic but vaguely feminine.

"We're here to see Kamilla Par," Kasyndra answered. "I'm Kasyndra Pereth, her granddaughter, and this is Yan Po Lom, her son-in-law's friend."

"Ex son-in-law," Yan clarified, earning a scowl from Kasyndra.

"Very well. One moment," the droid responded. There was a pause that seemed to last for more than a minute, during which Kasyndra was sure that the protocol droid was remotely speaking to someone inside the mansion without them being able to hear it. She wondered if her grandmother could use the protocol droid's visual scanners to see them, and tried not to appear nervous.

"Orianna Par would like to welcome you inside," the droid announced finally. At that the droid turned away from them and shuffled off between a gap in the meters tall bushes, disappearing entirely.

"Does that thing just hide out here all the time, waiting for someone to show up?" Kasyndra asked. Yan merely shrugged his shoulder in response, though his tail twitched playfully in amusement.

They reached the main doors to the mansion, which were made of wood and painted a deep scarlet red. As they ascended a short flight of duracrete steps the doors opened, revealing a middle aged woman who looked eerily familiar.

"My goodness," the woman gasped, her dark brown eyes glinting happily. Her face sported its fair share of wrinkles, and she had a faded scar upon her forehead, but she was still held on to some of the beauty of her youth. Her hair was midnight black, the exact shade that Kasyndra's was if she hadn't dyed it pink, and she wore a loose fitting casual dress, which was the same color as her hair. "It really is you."

"Hi," Kasyndra said, bowing respectfully. "I'm Asirya's daughter, Kasyndra Pereth. I can show you my identification to prove it."

"That's not necessary," the woman said, shaking her head. "You're the spitting image of my sister. Well, except for the hair," she added, smiling playfully. "I'm Orianna. I'm your mother's older sister."

"You're my aunt…" Kasyndra said distantly. Her entire life, or at least the part she could remember, her family had consisted only of herself, her brother, and her father. She had known than she had grandparents on Chandrila, but it had always been a dry fact. Kind of like knowing that the Clone Wars had started when the Republic invaded Geonosis, or that Coruscant was the galaxies' most populated world.

"I do believe that is how human familial relationships work," Yan pointed out with a smile towards Kasyndra. "My name is Yan Po Lom. I'm an associate of Thane Pereth. My family owes your sister a debt that I will never be able to repay." He bowed and extended his hand, which Orianna shook carefully, on account of Yan's sharp claws.

"Ah, yes…Asirya told us about that."

"She's here?" Kasyndra asked, practically shouting the question.

"Uh...no, I'm afraid not," Orianna answered, her expression growing slightly less cheery. "But we can talk inside. Please, come in, where are my manners," she said, waving them in. They entered to find themselves in an enormous greeting room. A pair of staircases on opposite sides of the room led upstairs. A corridor beneath the upper floor led deeper into the house. The scale of the interior revealed the Par family's enormous wealth, but without becoming too ostentatious with too much decoration.

"What brings you to Chandrila, after all this time?" Orianna asked, her dress flowing behind her as they followed her down the central corridor.

"Um...it's sort of a long story," Kasyndra began. "But the reason we're here is that I'm searching for my mother."

"Oh," Orianna said, stopping suddenly and turning towards them. "I haven't heard from Asirya in years. She stayed with us for awhile after she left Jappa, and then...well, I think it's your grandmother's place to tell you." At that her aunt led them down a side corridor until they passed through an enormous kitchen. It was empty except for an ancient looking chef droid, who was busy chopping vegetables. It spared them only a quick glance before going back to its food prep.

Orianna opened a door on the far side of the kitchen, revealing an outdoor patio. Kasyndra went through and found herself atop a terrace on the back side of the mansion. Beneath them was a shallow pool, upon which a small flock of birds swam. A bit of bread flew into the water, sending out ripples and causing the birds to chase each other in order to win the treat.

Kasyndra tracked the trajectory of the bread in reverse and discovered an ancient looking woman seated in a hover chair, a blanket across her lap.

"Mother, you have some very special guests," Orianna announced.

"Guests?" the woman repeated, turning her hover chair to face them with a wave of her hand over a control panel in the arm. She peered at them with bionically enhanced eyes, which surely rendered them in perfect focus, but the woman squinted nonetheless.

"Is that you, Asirya? What have you done to your hair?" the woman asked, reaching up and brushing a long white hair from her face, a gesture Kasyndra realized she did herself all the time. She couldn't tell if her grandmother was joking or not.

"No, I'm Kasyndra. I'm your granddaughter."

"Really?" Kamilla Par asked, steering her chair forward until she sat less than a meter from her granddaughter. "You look just like her."

"I said that too," Orianna added.

"Well, why don't you have a seat," Kamilla instructed, nodding towards a wooden chair that sat against the mansion's outer wall.

Kasyndra did as she was told, taking the seat after turning it towards her grandmother.

"Is it alright if I wait inside?" Yan asked. "Kasyndra, you can have all the time you need...if that's all right with you," he added, glancing at Orianna.

"Yes, of course," her aunt answered. "She's family, you can both stay here if you wish."

"We won't be staying long," Kasyndra said, shaking her head. She had missed the opportunity to meet her grandfather. What if something happened to her mother while they sat around in a fancy mansion? What if something happened to Kel before she could find him…

"We'll, you will be staying the night, at the very least," Kamilla said. It wasn't a question the elderly woman was willing to debate. Despite the shakiness of her voice, there was an underlying tone of authority to the woman, even as she gazed happily at her granddaughter. "Tell the taxi to go back to wherever it came from."

"Alright," Orianna said, retreating back into the mansion. Yan followed her.

"Now then, why don't you tell me about yourself," Kamilla ordered. It was the beginning of a conversation between Kasyndra and her grandmother that would last until very late in the evening. By the end of it, she finally knew where she might find her mother….


	21. Chapter 20: Communications Breakdown

**Chapter Twenty**

Rain came down hard upon the rooftops of Imperial Center. Lightning exploded overhead, so near relative to the high elevation of the city's upper levels, bright flashes of energy forking across the angry sky. Thunder reverberated against the skyscrapers, bouncing back forth in a never ending rumble. Kel gripped the durasteel ladder hard, pulling himself to the roof level of his apartment building. He wore a dark grey poncho over his Imperial Intelligence uniform, the hood pulled low over his head. He scanned the rooftop with the pair of night vision goggles he wore over his face. The goggles were part scanner, part datapad, and they revealed a conduit of high energy cabling running underneath his feet.

He slipped on the rooftop as he walked and temporarily slid over towards the edge of the tower. Over the edge he could see flashes of red and green light bouncing into the crowd below. He frowned as he realized the stormtroopers were not firing stun blasts into the protestors. The protest had been planned for weeks, a demonstration against Imperial abuses against the worlds of the Mid Rim and Western Reaches. In an attempt to dissuade them from showing up Imperial Center's climate control office had scheduled a thunderstorm, hoping the rain would scatter the crowds. When that had failed the government set stormtroopers on them.

Kel gritted his teeth, knowing he could do nothing for the people below. Instead he refocused on his task. His target was a relay box, which gathered up communications signals and sent them in tight beams to orbiting satellites. From there the signals would be redirected to their destination. This kind of old fashioned communications network was unnecessary on most worlds, but the density of Coruscant's city and sheer number of beings attempting to communicate to each other across it made standard comlink communications next to impossible.

Of course, the relay network had advantages for agencies like Imperial Intelligence or the Imperial Security Bureau. It made monitoring its citizens all the easier. All they had to do was install specialized equipment at the relay box and every bit of information that the Imperial government may be interested in could be duplicated and sent to the relevant agency. Which is why Kel was interested in the relay box.

He had known from the very first moment he had set foot in his apartment that it was bugged. The passive scanners he had smuggled out of Imperial Intelligence had proved their existence. Since he knew they were there he was always careful to never do anything suspicious in his apartment, but he wanted a little more freedom. Defeating the bugs was more complicated than it might seem, however.

First, he couldn't go looking for the hidden spying devices, that would be suspicious. He could build a jammer and prevent the bugs from sending data back to the relay box, but they would immediately know he had interrupted the feed and probably arrest him on the spot. Again. He was getting real tired of being arrested, and he felt that eventually Agent Dekai wouldn't be able to spring him out.

So he had to attack the relay box directly. He made his away carefully across the roof, rain still falling in thick sheets around him. He arrived at the box, which was about waist high and made of blaster resistant durasteel. His goggles illuminated the side of the box in infrared light, revealing a hidden access hatch. He bent down, using his poncho to shield himself from the rain, and retrieved a magnetic probe from his utility belt. He altered the settings on his goggles, allowing him to see through the durasteel casing at the lock mechanism within. Using the magnetic probe he jumped the lock and swung the access panel open.

He stared at the inside of the box and adjusted his goggles once again. A schematic of the relay box appeared as it was originally manufactured, overlaid with the actual equipment. He quickly spotted Imperial Intelligence's addition, which was not on the schematic. The device consisted of a collar which was clamped around the stem of the box's relay antenna. Little lights blinked on and off slowly, indicating that it was in sleep mode. _I'm not home, so there is nothing to record._

Kel reached up and pulled a data cable from his goggles, connecting it to the collar's data port. Programming text scrolled across his vision as he uploaded his countermeasures. His program was like a virus, inserting itself into the collar's subroutines. His program wasn't very elegant...he had always needed BR2-DE to clean up his code...but it was nearly undetectable.

Once the upload was complete he unplugged his goggles from the collar. He could now control the collar's systems remotely. He switched to a video feed, which showed him the interior of his apartment. He hit record and waited a few minutes, allowing him to store footage of an empty apartment. He now only had to record himself leaving the apartment and he could spoof their feed anytime he wanted to. There would be no interruption, no sign that he had defeated the bugs. A small smile played across his face he closed the latch, using the magnetic probe to seal it once more. He stood just as he heard a shout from behind.

"You there, put your arms in the air!" came a voice, filtered through a mask. Kel turned to find a stormtrooper aiming his blaster at him. Another stormtrooper was attempting to ascend the slippery ladder, and nearly fell off. Kel shed his poncho and raised his goggles, complying with the stormtrooper's request, revealing his face and his Imperial Intelligence uniform.

"Hi there," Kel shouted back through the rain. "You with the response unit? Got the riot in hand yet?"

The stormtrooper lowered his blaster. "Uh, yeah, things are settling down. Sorry, we didn't know you were an Imperial." Kel carefully walked towards the soldier, being careful not to slip.

"No problem," Kel said. He walked past the first stormtrooper and reached down, grabbing the hand of the other soldier who was still struggling with the ladder. He hauled the stormtrooper up over the last rung and held him up until he got his feet underneath him. "We don't want the locals seeing what we're up to, the rain storm is the perfect cover," Kel lied casually.

The two stormtroopers glanced at each other, and then at Kel, who was rapidly becoming soaked. "Think you can call us a ride?" he asked. "Unless you want to go back down that thing in the rain?" The stormtroopers glanced back at the ladder and nodded.

"Right. I'll call for a transport," the stormtrooper said at last.

oOoOo

Agent Dekai strode through the front lobby of Imperial Intelligence headquarters, an amused expression on his face. Every Imperial in the room looked towards him, an expression of shock or outrage on their face. No, they weren't looking at him, exactly. They were looking at the Hutt that followed him, the obvious disgust on their faces almost a physical reaction to the beings mere presence. He approached the check-in counter, the clerk eyeing him wearily. The others waiting in line scattered out the way, allowing him to jump to the front.

"I need to check in a visitor," Dekai announced as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"What is its name?" the clerk asked, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

" _His_ name is Pokama," Dekai answered. He stepped aside, allowing the Hutt direct access to the counter. Pokama was young for a Hutt, nearing his ninetieth birthday, and was also leaner than most members of his species. Especially elders like his uncle Pouliac who sat around doing nothing but eating and ordering around their underlings. Most Hutts saw obesity as a sign of success. Pokama as a sign of overconfidence. As complacency.

"They act like they've never seen a Hutt before," Pokama said, frowning in annoyance.

"I don't think they have," Dekai said.

"...or smelled one before," the clerk whispered.

Pokama slammed a fist on the counter. "I can smell you as well, little human. I You smell like you slipped into a vat of sanitizer on your way to work. You know your body is a breeding ground for superbugs immune to all but the nuclear fire of a supernova?"

The clerk's mouth hung agape, her embarrassment outpacing her outrage.

"I think that will do," Dekai added, hoping to circumvent any further escalation. "Let's go." Dekai went through the security scanner, but had to grant Pokama an exemption as he was too large to fit through. Even after he pulled rank on the guards they still made him sign a document. They made it clear that if anything adverse happened it would be on his head.

Pokama seemed to handle the blatant speciesism well. As a Hutt without the might of a criminal army behind to cow those who openly display their dislike of his species, he was used to the behavior.

Dekai led him through the marbled corridors, down which Pokama left a trail of his bodily slime, much to chagrin of an intelligence officer who slipped behind and them and crashed onto his backside, sending his datapad into a nearby wall. Dekai approached the turbolift, the curved door of which slid open to allow passengers disembark. Dekai took their and turned to face the door.

Pokama slid towards the door and stopped, realizing he was twice the size of the doorway.

"Right," Dekai said angrily as he exited the lift. "Sorry. We'll take a freight turbolift."

"I am not amused," Pokama grumbled.

Cereen sat in the briefing room, one leg folded over the other. R's sat behind talking to a former stormtrooper about current training methods. They had both arrived separately for their meeting, and both showed up early. But the Special Agent who had requested their presence, Dekai, was late.

A curious alien of a species had never encountered before sat in the first row, holding two datapads. She appeared to be reading a report on one and typing another report on the other. She seemed similar to a zabrak, with an assortment of cranial horns arrayed about her head like a boney crown. But her ears were elongated into tips, instead of rounded like a human, and her nose was skeletal in appearance. She was quite the site in an agency that was almost stiflingly human. Cereen found the alien's presence soothing, like she was in the real galaxy and not in some artificial construct designed to keep be as uniform as possible. _"Uniformity is strength,"_ she remembered from the Imperial military handbook she had been tested on during training. More like _"uniformity is weakness."_ If her security precinct had been made up of wholly humans they would have never have been able to conduct surveillance or tail suspects without drawing suspicion.

The trio of human men who leaned against the front walk of the lecture hall style briefing room appeared to be less pleased at the alien's presence than she was. All three of them appeared to be Imperial poster boys. Either blonde or black hair, closely cropped. No facial hair. Athletic builds and thick core worlds accents. They also wore non-standard Imperial Security uniforms. Instead of white or grey versions of navy uniforms they wore blue combat gear, without the helmets or blasters.

They kept glancing over at the alien, a look of disgust on their faces. And when they weren't glancing at the alien they were making quick looks in her own direction. Those glances were usually followed by cruel laughter.

Cereen took a deep breath, letting her frustration out rather than let it bottle up inside. She stood and exited her row of seating, descended the stairs and came up to the alien.

"Hi," she greeted. "I don't mean to disturb you, but I wanted to introduce myself."

The alien glanced up at her, a look flashing over that Cereen couldn't tell between surprise or annoyance. She supposed it could be both. "Yes. I know who are. My name is Si Nommon."

"Ah, nice to meet you Si Nommon," Cereen said with a smile. She held out here hand. "You may already know who I am but it's not a proper introduction if I don't identify myself. I'm Cereen Faye."

"Interesting," Nommon said. She took Cereen's hand and shook it. "Your file was light on personality profiling, but I can see that you are strong willed and resistant to group think. Valuable qualities in a field agent."

"Um, thanks."

"Yes, indeed. I can assure you were selected primarily for your combat prowess. And not because Special Agent Dekai was already familiar with you due to your association with his recruit, Attendant Kel Pereth."

"Well, that's good, I suppose," she said, brushing her back behind her ear. "You know about Kel?"

"Yes. He's a brilliant technician, but with significant behavioral risks."

"I'll say," she agreed. She glanced over at the trio of men behind them, whose opinion of her appeared to have significantly declined since she began speaking to the ' _alien.'_ "Did you help select everyone for this...whatever it is?"

"Special Agent Dekai selected the team, I merely vetted his selections so he could justify his picks to his superiors." Si Nommon glanced in the direction of the three men, displaying no outward sense of hostility or fear towards them. Only coldness, which Cereen took to mean it was as much hostility Si Nommon would display openly. "They were not chosen by Special Agent Dekai. They are on assignment from the Imperial Security Bureau."

"This is a joint operation?"

"Yes," Si Nommon said, nodding.

The doors opened behind them, and Cereen turned to find Dekai entering the room. The middle aged human glanced across the room, thumbing his goatee as he realized everyone was waiting. Dekai turned and gazed at the door or specifically the door frame.

"Everyone out," Dekai ordered.

"Excuse me," said one of the ISB agents, directing a look of unmasked hate towards Dekai. "This is your meeting and you show up late. Now you want to move it?"

"Yeah, it's my meeting Krom, my operation, and I'll move the briefing to the roof if I feel like it. Everyone out into the hall."

"Yes sir," came R's voice from the fourth row. They exited the briefing room and filed out into hall. Cereen nearly jumped in surprise as she found a Hutt waiting for them. Lorne Krom's reaction was much less subtle.

"What the hell is this thing doing here?" Krom shouted. His hand went to his waist, instinctively, although he was carrying no blaster.

"His name is Pokama," Dekai said sternly. "And you will refer to him with respect. He's an essential part of this operation."

"Have you lost your mind Dekai?" Krom asked in all seriousness.

Dekai snarled and grabbed Krom by the collar of his armor. "If you prove to be a pain in the ass I will call Colonel Yularen and have you removed from this operation."

"You can't remove me," Krom responded, tearing himself away from Dekai's grip. "This is a joint operation."

"I've accepted the ISB role in this. But I don't need _you_ filling that role. How well do you think your superiors will take you getting booted, fresh off of your demotion?"

Krom paled and seemed to deflate a little. "Whatever. If the slug and the elomin and whatever other nonhumans you're going to force into this screw things up, it'll be on your head."

Dekai backed off and suddenly seemed to become aware of the uncomfortable silence pervading throughout the group as they watched the two men argue.

"Ahem," Si Nommon cleared her throat. She held up one of her datapads, which she had apparently been working on even as the argument unfolded. "I believe I've found a suitable location for the briefing that will accommodate the diameter of every being in attendance."

"Good, lead the way," Dekai nodded. The group followed Si Nommon down the hall, Cereen falling back in order to keep pace with Pokama, who brought up the rear. She never encountered a member of his species before. Her beat as a security officer hadn't often taken her to areas where Hutt's were more common. Even then, most Hutts worth the attention of Imperial Center Security were powerful and influential enough to have vanished long before security forces ever showed up.

"Hi, my name is Cereen."

"Do not speak to me, human."

oOoOo

It was dark and silent throughout Pouliac's palace. Moabis lay curled up in her sleeping sack, the snores of the Hutt Lord's other warriors echoed through the chamber, which consisted of little more than a stone floor. There was a wide and expansive window however, which let in a generous amount of moonlight and fresh air. The influx of fresh air was probably the only thing keeping her highly developed sense of smell from driving her mad.

She could not sleep, which was typical for her on most nights. She was not comfortable sleeping around her comrades, which came from a fear of being shanked in the night and all of her gear stolen, rather than any other concern. Although her species had now spent over a thousand years in service to the Hutts, she could not overcome her need to be part of a healthy pack. A pack where each member looked out for each other, rather than stabbing each other in the back.

Her comlink buzzed underneath, vibrating beneath her armor in a way that only she could detect. It was time. Moabis arose carefully, making very sure she moved softly as she grabbed her heavy repeating blaster and hefted it over her shoulder. Barefooted she crept from the room, none of the others noticing her passage.

The palace was just as silent as she moved through the halls. She passed a gamorrean sleeping at his post, who only snorted loudly as she passed. She passed the cafeteria where a pair of weequay technicians were drinking heavily and loudly. They didn't notice her either.

Moabis arrived at the central stairwell and followed the wide staircase all the way to the bottom. Down here the hum of machinery overtook the sounds of the night. Huge servers monitored the flow of power from the generators housed deep below the surface. Other machines kept the flow of air and water moving smoothly. Finally she came to the communications equipment.

The stared at the machine until she found the sensor relay box. She opened the front panel of the box and found where the cables plugged into the data center.

"This one is ready," Moabis said into her comlink.

A moment later Agarma responded from the control center. "Go ahead."

Moabis pulled out the cables, causing a cascade of red lights to appear across the relay box. Up in the control center Agarma was supposed to have assured that no one would notice the change.

"Uploading the new settings...standby," the neimodian said. "Alright. Reconnect the sensors."

Moabis reinserted the cables. "Done." The red lights began slowly changed to yellow, and then one by they went out. She flipped the panel shut, leaving no trace she had ever touched it.


	22. Chapter 21: Assault on Mataou

**Chapter Twenty One**

A _Sheathipede_ -class shuttle appeared in space above the dry world of Mataou. The beetle shaped transport, with a tall vertical tail at the rear, was a vessel left over from the Clone Wars. This particular one had been repainted, featuring the twirling sea shell sigil of Poualiac's clan on the tail in red, black, and white colors. The ship lowered its nose, beginning a descent into the atmosphere.

Inside the vessel a Gran pilot, a species with three eyes and a goat-like snout, informed his master of their final approach. Pokama slithered from the passenger compartment towards the front of the transport, which was his own personal vessel, and had been specially customized to suit him. The doorway separating the bridge from the passenger sections had been enlarged, allowing his oversize body entry.

"Raise a channel to my uncle," Pokama ordered the Gran in Huttese. A moment later Poualiac's obese form rose out of the shuttle's holographic communicator.

"You're late," Poualiac complained, his voice a low rumble. "Agarma asked you to come a week ago."

"I had business on Coruscant," Pokama explained. "I can't immediately drop everything and travel halfway across the galaxy."

"Your business is unimportant," Poualiac said, leaning forward angrily. "When I call, you come. No excuses."

"Very well," Pokama said, bowing respectfully. "Apologies." Poualiac cut off the call, surely intending to leave his nephew sweating in fear as his transport descended towards his palace. Instead Pokama silently returned to the passenger compartment, seemingly indifferent to his uncle's attempt at intimidation.

The shuttle settled onto one of the terraces outside of the palace, between Poualiac's frigate and the grand entrance. Little insect-like landing legs unfolded from the belly of the ship, resting the vessel upon the stone concourse. The ramp lowered and the young Hutt emerged. Pokama did not receive an honor guard, instead only Poualiac's Niemodian majordomo, Agarma, and his chief warrior, the Trandoshan Lomagar.

"Welcome," Agarma greeted, bowing. Her black robes billowed in the wind, giving her the appearance of a black wraith. "Lord Poualiac waits inside."

"Let's not keep him waiting any longer," Pokama agreed. Lomagar tightened his claws on his heavy rifle, pointing the axe-like bayonett on the end of the barrel towards the young Hutt. He lurked in Pokama's shadow as the trio entered the palace through the huge front entrance. Agarma casually placed one arm within the sleeve of the other, pressing a button on the control band hidden there.

oOoOo

In high orbit above Mataou drifted another ship, a grey tri-wing _Lambda-class_ Imperial shuttle. Inside the cockpit two human pilots adjusted their sensors, making sure the passive scanners maintained power while the rest of the ship drifted silently. A signal lit up on the sensor screen, prompting the co-pilot to turn around in his seat towards Agent Dekai, who sat behind him.

"We've received the signal from the ground," the co-pilot said. Agent Dekai glanced at Si Nommon, who sat across from him in the remaining seat in the bridge section of the transport.

"Alright," Dekai said. "Power up and bring us to the insertion point." He rose from his seat and entered the passenger compartment. Cereen Faye and R's sat in the front row of the seats, both of them running through one last weapons check. Towards the back sat Lorne Krom and the two former stormtroopers he had brought with him from the Imperial Security Bureau. Both of them looked like they had stepped out of a COMPNOR recruitment poster. Each had neatly cropped hair, clean shaven faces, muscular builds. Dekai hoped they could shoot a blaster as well as they could groom.

"We've received the signal from the ground and we're en route to the insertion point," Dekai announced.

"What guarantee do we have that their sensors are actually offline?" Krom asked.

"Only their word."

"That's it?" Krom asked, his face a picture of disgust and disapproval. "How do we know they aren't sending a concussion missile to meet us?"

"We don't," Dekai shrugged. "If you want to take no risks and, therefore, accomplish nothing, you should have stayed safely behind your desk on Imperial Center."

Krom glowered at Dekai but said nothing further.

"Once you are on the ground R's is in charge of combat operations. I will remain with the shuttle and we will provide overwatch."

"Understood sir," R's nodded, adopting a formal military tone.

"We're about to touch down," the pilot called from the front of the ship.

"Any other questions?" Dekai asked. No one spoke up. "Good. Everyone knows the plan, I expect no deviations," he added, eyeing Krom and his compatriots. Dekai returned to the forward section just as the shuttle flew into the gap of the canyon near Poualiac's palace. The pilot hugged the ground, keeping the ship out sight from many who may be keeping watch, and soon settled upon the canyon floor, far beneath Poualiac's palace.

Cereen and R's rose from their seats. They each wore dark blue armor, adapted from the standard ISB commando uniform and helmet, with a few additions. Each of them had adopted night vision goggles and breath masks, which fit comfortably in the open-face helmets. Krom and his men were likewise equipped, adding only infrared glow-lamps beneath their standard issue E-11 blasters. Cereen also carried an E-11, with the addition of her father's sniper rifle hung on a strap across her back.

The loading ramp of the shuttle lowered, allowing Cereen and R's to run down the ramp. They scanned the narrow canyon, finding it littered with rock and debris that had fallen from above. There was no sign of hostiles.

"Clear," R's announced after sweeping his rifle around the landscape, his voice echoing into Cereen's helmet through the squad's comlink. She looked along the wall of the canyon until she spotted an entrance to a utility tunnel. It seemed that Pokama's intel had been accurate.

"Spotted the entry," she said into her comlink. R's followed her gaze.

"Two by two formation," he ordered. "Agent Krom will take up the rear." Cereen and R's once again took the lead, navigating around some of the larger boulders until they neared the entrance. It didn't look much, merely a bunch of tiled white stone embedded in the rock, surrounding a corridor large enough for a Hutt to enter. The corridor was wide enough that Cereen and R's could enter side by side. A few meters in and they had to activate their night vision goggles.

They exited the corridor and found themselves in an expansive catacomb. Hundreds of thick, square columns supported the ceiling, like a forest of stone. The squad moved through the columns, moving towards the center.

Condensation trickled down the the stone columns underneath Poualiac's palace, giving rise to a rich ecosystem of fungus and rodents. She could see mushroom shaped fungi shake and bounce as the rodents fled in alarm at the intrusion into their environment. The critters moved so quickly they were hard to spot. It seemed almost as if it were the mushrooms themselves that quivered in fear. Cereen was grateful for her breath mask as she followed R's through the dark, spores drifting through the near light of the glow-lamps attached beneath the barrels of the ISB agent's blasters.

Soon they found their destination. A spiral staircase rose from the center of the room, ascending into the lower levels of Pouliac's palace. R's took the steps carefully, aiming his blaster upwards towards the next level. Cereen followed, keeping her blaster aimed towards the Clone's blind spot. Krom's stormtroopers followed, whereas the ISB agent himself paused at the landing. He reached into his pack and removed two thermal detonators, placing each of them beneath the stairway.

"Explosives are set," he spoke into his comlink.

oOoOo

Pokama slithered into his uncle's throne room, unintimidated by the blaster toting slaves flanking either side of Poualiac's platform. The throne room was a wide, expansive room. Huge windows overlooked the palace complex and provided a view of the dusty mountains off in the distance. Part of the room had been converted into a control center, which consisted of a haphazard grouping of computer terminals arrayed off to one side, manned by technicians of various species.

Agarma walked ahead of the young Hutt. She stopped and bowed before her master, her black robe falling about her. "My Lord, I am pleased to announce the arrival of your nephew, Pokama."

"Hmph," Poualiac grunted. Pokama nodded his head in a sign of respect, but his attention was on the clawed footsteps following behind him. If his uncle grew too displeased it would be the Trandoshan named Logamar that delivered the killing blow. "You seemed to have grown little since last I saw you," Poualiac said in Huttese.

"Once I am as powerful and respected as you I am sure I will present a more sedentary appearance," Pokama said.

"I don't want respect, I want fear!" Poualiac shouted. "Soon I will have my revenge upon Jabba, and all of the other kajidics who look down on my empire. Of course, I am hindered by the meager contributions of my sister's child."

"Coruscant has changed much since the days of Ziro," Pokama said. "It is not as easy to bribe Imperial officials as it was during the Republic."

"Nonsense," Poualiac said. "Perhaps little Pokama can't afford to do business with the Imperials like a proper Hutt."

"I do what I can," Pokama said, bowing respectfully, hoping to diffuse his uncle's pent up aggression. "What can I do for you, my Lord?"

Poualiac waved his chubby hand towards Agarma, who took a datacard from a technician stationed at one of the computer terminals. Agarma, in turn, brought the datacard to Pokama.

"That datacard contains extensive information on the smuggling routes, shadow ports, and black market fences used by Jabba the Hutt, and some of the other Hutts, in the Anoat sector," Poualiac revealed. "You will go to the Anoat system and turn yourself in to General Adelhard. Our gift will ensure the Imperials can eliminate our enemies in this sector for us, and ensure an alliance with the Galactic Empire."

Pokama took the datacard, which fit in the palm of his hand. He was highly skeptical that his uncle's plan would work. What would stop this General Adelhard from simply taking the card, killing him, and then send a fleet of Star Destroyers to reduce their ancestral palace to slag from orbit? And anyway, Pokama was not concerned about Imperials. He had already ensured an alliance with them. That alliance did not include his uncle, however.

"Very well," Pokama said. "I will report back when I have met with General Adelhard."

"You will take several of my personal guard with you. To ensure you obey the orders of your superior," Poualiac added. The older Hutt turned towards Agarma. "Put together a group to accompany my dear nephew. Include Moabis, I think it's time she was rewarded for her...service."

"Very well," Agarma bowed. Pokama glanced sidelong at Logamar as the Trandoshan laughed in amusement, his lizard tongue flicking between his sharp teeth. "I will show your nephew out."

Agarma held out her hand, gesturing for Pokama to lead the way. Once they were outside of Pouliac's throne room and alone in the hall Pokama turned toward the Niemodian, the cybernetic implants that had replaced her eyes shining brightly in the poorly lit hall.

"How long?" he asked.

"Any moment," she answered simply. They continued down the hall, their pace quickening.

oOoOo

Deep within the palace, two levels below Poualiac's throne room, a wide ceremonial room had been converted into a cafeteria. Three eyed Gran, green skinned Rodians, and many other species sat eating. Hardly any of them noticed a stun grenade bounce out of the stairwell and roll near the far table.

The grenade exploded in a flash of light and sound, stunning those nearby and sending the rest diving for cover. R's stormed out of the stairwell, firing his E-11 into the back of a Gran who staggered around blindly. Cereen came next, firing at two Rodians and taking each down. Krom's ISB stormtroopers followed, one them taking out a pig-like Gamorrean who managed to reach for his vibro-axe. The other buried three shots into the back of a fleeing Twi'lek, who made it only a few steps towards the hall.

R's and Cereen swept forward, putting blaster shots into the few beings who still struggled with the effects of the stun grenade. She hurried past the table and put her back against the wall, near the entryway to the corridor. She waited until the others had cleared the table and then spun her body around the corner, instantly narrowing in on a Rodian who hurried their way, a small blaster pistol in his hand. Her shot struck him the shoulder, causing him to fall backwards. His blaster fell out of his hands, but he didn't get a chance to reach for it. Cereen shot him again, this time putting him down permanently.

R's peered around the corner. "Pokama didn't tell us there would be a cafeteria here," he said.

"It seems like the setup here is rather thrown together. I doubt he could have known where Poualiac has distributed his men," Cereen said. She turned, looking for Krom. She spotted him putting the finishing touches on another detonator, planting this one on the ceiling behind the entryway to the stairwell. "How many more of those do you have? I don't think Pokama will appreciate it if you reduce his ancestral palace to rubble."

"You think I care want that slug appreciates?" Krom growled. "Which way to the detention level?"

"Down the hall until we reach the far side of the palace, then turn right," R's said, having memorized the layout during their briefing.

"I'll take point," Cereen announced and began to carefully move down the hall, her weapon up and ready.

oOoOo

Moabis paced back and forth in an empty room inside Poualiac's palace, unable to control her anxiety. She wasn't afraid of the attack she knew was impending. No, she always looked forward to battle. It was what she had trained almost her entire life for, even when she was a youngling on Klatooine. Instead her anxiety came at the prospect of her impending betrayal of Pouliac, her Master. And the betrayal of her 'comrades', the rest of Poualiac's servants that she had lived and fought alongside for almost eight years.

Loyalty was a fundamental part of Klatooinian society. Loyalty to one's pack. To one's clan. To the Hutt's who had lorded over her species for thousands of years. Loyalty was everything to a Klatoonian. Betrayal was the greatest sin, a capital offense. After today she would not only be exiled by the Hutts, for no lord would accept a servant with a history of disobedience, she would also be exiled by her people. But, for some reason that she couldn't explain, she was willing to pay that price.

An explosion interrupted her pacing, it's high pitched echo reverberating through the halls. The Imperials had arrived. Moabis strode over to the wooden crates and wicker baskets stacked against the wall. She threw aside a basket and tossed a lid across the floor. She bent over the side of the crate and pulled a customized heavy repeating blaster from within.

Moabis looped the shoulder strap over her head and then retrieved the ammo canister, a small drum which fit beneath the stock. With a clawed hand she flicked a switch on the side of the stock, activating the weapon and switching it to semi-auto firing mode. Next she went back to the crate, retrieving a grenade belt, which looped around her other shoulder.

She strode into the hall, her heavy blaster held vertically. The tinny sounds of blaster fire now echoed through the stone halls, along with the shouting of Poualiac's servants. The attack had come from within, just as Agarma had said it would. Her pace quickened to a jog as she crossed the palace. She paused at the main corridor, ducking her head around the corner. It appeared as if the fighting was still contained to the cafeteria. A Rodian glanced at her from the other side of the hall.

"After you," she said in Huttese. The Rodian, armed with only a small blaster pistol, nodded, the round antennae atop his head quivering. He took off at a jog down the corridor, unaware that Moabis immediately abandoned him. She crossed the hall and headed towards the armory.

She arrived at a reinforced door, one of the few parts of the palace that had successfully been refurbished prior to Poualiac's arrival. She quickly punched in her access code as she heard dozens of mercenaries running towards her from behind.

She stepped aside, allowing two Gran, a Twi'lek, and a Gamorrean to enter the durasteel reinforced closet. Once inside they quickly began arming themselves, taking blaster rifles from within lockers and distributing tibanna gas magazines. The Gamorrean opted for a long poleaxe. The pig-like creature turned just as Moabis tossed a thermal detonator into the room. It stupidly glanced down at the grenade, thinking that she had accidentally dropped it.

The Gamorrean bent down and retrieved it from the floor, staring in fascination at the pretty lights blinking on and off. Moabis commanded the armory door to shut and quickly punched in the locking mechanism. She quickly ran, just barely making it around the corner before the detonator went off.

The explosion blasted all air within the hall outwards, throwing Moabis to the floor and showering her in duracrete debris. Parts of the ceiling collapsed, nearly falling upon her legs, but she narrowly escaped being crushed. She rolled over, her eyes widening at the sight of the enormous hole she had ripped into the side of the palace.

Moabis flinched as a pair of hands grabbed her around the shoulder from behind and lifted her to her feet. She swung outwards with her rifle, shoving the stranger backwards. She spun, raising her enormous blaster and aiming it at the Weequay who had helped her up. The grey, leathery skinned man held up his hands, apparently unaware that it was she who had blown up the armory.

"Are you alright?" he asked. His voice was barely audible even though he shouted. Apparently the explosion had temporarily blown out her hearing.

"Yes," she said. She brushed some of the dust off of her brown and red tunic. "We need secure Master's prisoner."

"Alright," he said, nodding. The Weequay turned and began to head down the hall, assuming she was following. Moabis raised her blaster and opened fire, burying a series of powerful blasts into his back that sent him flying. His body ricocheted off the nearest wall, and did not hit the floor in one piece. She stepped over his corpse and continued on her way, tears streaming down her brown face.

She passed several other fighters on her way to the detention level, but they paid her no mind, and she refrained from murdering them. Soon she found the stairwell and headed downwards. Two Gamorreans stood guard stood outside of the Nautolan's cell. They glanced up at Moabis' approach, their ears twitching in anticipation of new orders from one of the Master's elite soldiers.

She opened fire, immediately cutting both of them down. The Nautolan, still high from the painkillers Moabis had given her, frowned in confusion. "Waz this? Killing your own?" she asked foggily in the common tongue.

"Moabis is...gone stray," she answered, struggling to find the right words. She was not fluent in Basic. "Ready for freeing?"

She did not have a key to the Nautolan's cell, but she didn't need one. She raised her blaster towards the lock, being careful her firing angle was not in the prisoner's direction. It took one rapid fire blast to reduce it to slag. The cage swung open and Moabis quickly helped the delirious pirate to her feet.

"We friends meet now," Moabis said. She gripped the Nautolan under the armpit, half dragging her towards the stairwell.

oOoOo

Pouliac watched as Agarma and Pokama exited his throne room. Despite the appearances that he liked to reinforce, he did not dislike his nephew. But now, vulnerable as he was after his exile from the Hutt homeworld of Nal Hutta, he had to keep the young one in his place. He could risk no erosion of his authority. He did not know for sure that the Imperials on Anoat would kill or imprison the young Hutt, and all of his minions that he sent with him, but if they did it would erase a potential rival. He also did not know, for sure, if the Imperials would accept his gift and ignore the bad publicity he had caused them at Formos.

He slithered off of his throne platform and moved towards the haphazard control center located in the corner. "Make sure the long range scanners are functioning," he instructed the technicians. "If an Imperial ship enters the system I want to immediately know about it."

"Yes, Master," a Rodian nodded. Next Poualiac turned towards Logamar. The Trandoshan still stood next to the entrance, a bored expression on his reptilian face now that Pokama had left.

"I want you to prepare the prisoner for transfer. I want to be able to offer her to the Imperials if it becomes necessary."

"The prisoner is in bad shape," Logamar said. "Do you want us to patch her up?"

"Yes, instruct Agarma to arrange for medical attention. She is no use to us dead." Pouliac's ear holes quivered at a sound he did not expect. A tinny pop followed by what sounded like distant blaster fire. "What is that?"

Lomagar swung his blaster rifle forward. "It sounds like a firefight," the Trandoshan pointed out.

"What is happening?" Poualiac demanded, slamming his fist down upon one of the computer terminals and staring murderously towards the technicians.

The Rodian furiously began punching buttons and adjusting controls, his antennae quivering in fear. "I don't know, no one is answering the comm signals."

Poualiac listened intently, hoping against hope that it was his blasted Gamorreans fighting each other in a mating display. And then suddenly another explosion, this one much closer, shook the throne room. Dust fell from the ceilings and several computers nearly toppled over.

"We're under attack!" Poualiac shouted. "Do something," he ordered Lomagar, his voice thick with panic.

Logamar shifted his blaster rifle to the ready position. "Stay here, I'll dispatch some of my men to guard you." The warrior strode from the room, his tongue flicking between his sharp teeth excitedly.

"How could this happen?" Poualiac asked, eyeing the Rodian technician suspiciously. "Did you let a ship in? Have you betrayed me?"  
"What? No, of course not. The sensors have detected no…"

Poualiac slammed his fingers down upon the control bracelet he wore around his wrist. A burst of electricity exploded from the neck of the technician behind the Rodian, killing the wrong servant. Pouliac glared in frustration and hit his bracelet again, this time killing a Twi'lek, blue arcs of electricity flying between the tan skinned being's head tails. Down to only the Rodian, Poualiac reluctantly decided to spare the him, lest he be forced to man the controls himself. "I want you to figure out what went wrong!"

"Yes my Lord," the Rodian said, beads of sweat dripping down his green face.

oOoOo

Logamar confidently exited the throne room, holding his blaster rifle and its axe-like bayonet high in the air. He knew that his warriors were supposed to immediately report to the armory in case of an attack, but even his mouth hung agape when arrived at the enormous hole in the side of the palace where the armory had once sat.

The gap in the floor was tens of meters, too wide to jump across. On the other side were dozens of his men, representing most of the common Hutt slave races. He noted that Moabis was absent.

"What do we do boss?" a Weequay called from across the gap. Logamar scanned his available forces. They were armed only with their personal blasters and vibroknives. The loss of the armory would put a serious damper on their ability to repulse a serious attack.

"Where are the attackers coming from?" he asked.

"The regulars are trying to contain them in the cafeteria area," a Gran answered, his three eyes blinking in unison. That meant that the assault had come through the under levels of the palace. Coupled with the explosion of the armory...they had been betrayed.

"I want half of you to head up to the throne room," Logamar ordered. "Escort Lord Poualiac to his frigate. The rest of you split into two groups and head for the east and west wings respectively. Gather up anyone you come across on your way. In five minutes I want both groups to converge on the central hall, I want to catch the attackers in a pincer."

"Yes sir," the Weequay nodded. Logamar watched them disperse before turning away from the damaged intersection. If Pokama and Agarma were working with the attackers it could mean they were coming for the prisoner as well. He broke into a jog, forced to go the long way around the palace in order to reach the stairwell leading to the detention levels.

oOoOo

Things began to go wrong the moment the Imperials began to move down the central corridor. First Krom's stormtroopers failed to cover the rear properly, a blaster bolt missing Cereen's shoulder pad by centimeters. And then the Hutt's mercenaries began to fill every side corridor, bogging them down.

Cereen crouched on her knee, firing into a side corridor and keeping the enemy from popping around the corner and picking her off. R's was doing the same on the opposite side of the corridor. Krom's stormtroopers were facing the opposite direction, picking off mercenaries who recklessly tried to rush them from the rear. So far they had avoided serious trouble, but she didn't know how long that would last. They had also yet to achieve their primary objective, which was to secure the pirate being held captive.

A Gamorrean wielding a huge vibro-axe came barrelling towards Cereen, bellowing loudly in some kind of ill advised war cry. Cereen fired into him, but the boar-like alien's thick body seemed to absorb the shots with little immediate damage. Cereen dropped her E-11 and swung her sniper rifle off of her shoulder. She had only seconds before the alien reached her. The Gamorrean lifted his axe, but before he could bring it down on her, took a shot in the knee from R's.

The Gamorrean began to fall backwards just as Cereen fired her weapon. The alien's chest exploded, showering her in gore and sending his corpse flying backwards. Other mercenaries, who had begun to rush in behind the Gamorrean, suddenly hesitated. One of them managed an on target shot, hitting Cereen in the hip. But Cereen fired again, the adrenaline coursing through her veins blocking out the pain. The sound of her rifle echoed like a cannon through the stone corridor, a thunderclap amidst the sounds of the other blasters.

A Rodian took her shot, literally flying backwards into the ceiling and then crashing into several of his fleeing comrades. R's fired several shots down the other side of the corridor and then quickly crossed the gap.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sweat dripping down his brow.

"Yeah," she answered, trying to stand. Instead she collapsed painfully back to a knee. It seemed that adrenaline had its limits. "...maybe not."

"Come on, we need to find cover and regroup," R's said. He lowered a shoulder, giving Cereen enough support that she could walk on her other leg. R's fired his E-11, keeping the mercenaries behind cover as they retreated. Soon the turned a corner, and arrive where Lorne Krom and the others could cover them.

"I think its time for some fireworks," Krom said, smiling menacingly at Cereen's pained expression.

"That will cut off our escape route," R's said.

"I don't think we would make it back to under levels anyway," Cereen said. "I think we need to call Dekai and ask for backup from the local Imperial forces."

"This is a covert op, we're not getting back up," Krom said, shaking his head. He reached into his belt pouch and retrieved his detonator trigger. Without asking for further permission he pressed the button.

Around the corner the mercenaries who were about to rush the infiltrators suddenly felt the floor shake beneath them. Parts of the ceiling collapsed, crushing those who weren't quick enough to get out the way. The rest retreated in fear.

oOoOo

Agent Dekai sat inside the Imperial shuttle, listening intently to the scanners. "It seems like our jamming is effective," he announced. There was garbled chatter making it through, but it was unintelligible. It would be unintelligible for the Hutt's forces attempting to respond to their attack as well.

Suddenly a loud cascading pop erupted from the speaker, causing Dekai to jump backwards in alarm. It seemed Krom had detonated his explosive charges early. That was not a good sign.

"We need to get airborne," Dekai announced, getting up from the sensor station and leaning into the bridge section.

The co-pilot hesitated at his order. "Aren't they supposed to meet us down here for extraction?"

"They detonated the explosives that are supposed to cover their escape _before_ they sent the tight beam transmission signalling they have secured the prisoner. Which means they are going to need a different escape route. We need to see what's going on up there, and we can't do that hiding down here."  
"Won't we be exposed to weapons fire?" the co-pilot asked.

"I gave you an order," Dekai reiterated.

"Yes sir," the co-pilot said. He nodded towards the pilot and together they fired up the engine and lifted the ship off the floor of the canyon. Dekai had not expected everything to go according to plan, but he really hoped he hadn't just made a fool of himself, like Ysanne Isard and Lorne Krom had done to themselves previously.

Dekai returned to his seat at the sensor station. He began to flick off the communication jammers. Next he dialed up the hyperwave communicators, punching in some standard Imperial Army frequencies. It was time to call for some backup.


	23. Chapter 22: Assault on Mataou II

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Pokama could feel the palace shuddering as he and Agarma headed out of the main entrance. The sounds of blaster fire were distant as they echoed from the upper levels, but still too close for comfort. Despite his large size and his species' reputation for being sluggishly slow, Agarma was surprised that she had to hustle to keep up with the young Hutt.

They exited the main hall, Poualiac's red banner lazily fluttering above them in Mataou's hot air, apparently unaffected by the chaos of the battle being waged within. The pathway leading up the landing pad was a smooth ramp, convenient for beings that slithered rather than walked.

Pokama's shuttle wasn't far when they reached the top of the ramp. As they neared the loading ramp he heard the roar of an engine approaching. He raised his forearm, blocking out the sun from his face as an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle rose out of the canyon, its trifold wings lowering into flight configuration.

"I believe our departure may be delayed," Agarma said dryly. Pokama frowned and then boarded his own shuttle. As soon as he entered the passenger compartment the Gran pilot turned round and nodded towards him.

"Master, we are being raised on the comm by that Imperial shuttle," the Grand announced, his three eyes blinking nervously. A huge explosion erupted from the palace, sending thunderous waves of dust out of every open window and hall, causing the hull of the shuttle to vibrate.

"Bring them up," Pokama answered.

"Pokama, are you there?" came Agent Dekai's voice, after a brief burst of static.

"Yes, this is him," Pokama answered in basic.

"My people are in trouble...if they don't leave with the pirate alive, or if Poualiac escapes, your name is going to go in front of every bounty hunter in the galaxy and every wanted poster in Imperial space."

"Understood," Pokama answered, snarling slightly. He motioned for the pilot to cut off the call. He turned and reached up towards the ceiling of the transport, undoing a hatch and causing an enormous rotary blaster rifle to fall into his hands. The huge weapon had once been used by the Republic Grand Army during the Clone Wars, but Pokama carried it like was an ordinary rifle, due to the relative large size of his body.

"What are you going to do with that?" Agarma asked, surprised that such a weapon had been hiding above her head.

"I'm going to say hello to my Uncle," Pokama answered. "Keep the ship running. If you take off without me I will use this on you instead."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Agarma said, shaking her head. "I need the same Imperial pardon you seek." The Neimodian watched as Pokama slid down the boarding ramp, holding the huge blaster upright in one hand. She would remember to never underestimate the young Hutt's physicality.

oOoOo

Moabis peered around the corner carefully. She leaned against a wall in the palace's lower floor, at the bottom of one of the wide staircases that granted access between levels. The sound of blaster fire was closer now. It appeared as if the Imperials were attempting to fight their way upwards, towards Pouliac's throne room. Little did they know that they would find it abandoned. If they made it there at all.

Half-Stock lay unconscious, draped over Moabis' shoulder. The drugs Moabis had given her were effective at blocking out the pain from her torture, but they were highly sedative. She had been forced to drag the Nautolan slowly through the halls, checking at each turn to avoid detection. She would have to abandon that strategy soon.

Moabis dragged Half-Stock around the corner and began to move down the next hall. It was dark, with few windows or artificial lighting illuminating the interior. The brightest light reflected against the walls of the upcoming intersection, green and red flashes that seemed at war with each other. She found an alcove in the corridor, a space behind a support column, and deposited Half-Stock behind it. "Don't move," she ordered in Huttese, although she was aware that the Nautolan pirate could likely not understand her in her current condition.

She holstered her blaster pistol and retrieved her heavy rifle, swinging it around her shoulder. She began to walk down the corridor, quickly checking that her weapon was armed and primed. Suddenly the Imperials came into view, five of them. One of them appeared to be a Clone, the classic Jango Fett variety from the Clone Wars. She hadn't realized any of them were still in Imperial service.

The Clone held up a wounded woman with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail beneath her helmet. Two other men fired standard issue stormtrooper blasters down the hall and out of Moabis' field of view. The fifth man in the group hugged the wall, a small blaster pistol in his hand. Moabis approached carefully, fearful that the Imperials would fire on her. She crept in the dark, sticking to the deepest shadows.

The Clone took a glancing blow, a blaster shot striking his dark blue shoulder pad and blowing it off, blackening his flesh and showering both him and the woman he supported in sparks. As they fell Moabis swung around the corner, raising her blaster.

There were a half dozen of Poualiac's men arrayed down the hall, hiding behind support columns or leaning around them to get a shot at the Imperials. She recognized most of them from the elite unit she was a member of. Their eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her. And then she opened up with her blaster.

She didn't bother aiming carefully. If they were hiding behind cover she blew the cover apart under a constant stream of energy. She gritted her teeth and one, and then two, of her former comrades went down. The rest adjusted their fire towards her but couldn't aim their weapons carefully with the constant stream of fire she spat at them. She walked forwards, her clawed fingers holding down her weapon's trigger tightly. A green-skinned Rodian tried to flee and she buried three shots in his back. A Gran held his pistol out in the open, firing blindly while he kept his body out of view. His shots went comically wide and only served to give away his position. Moabis fired into the support column, bursting it apart. The Gran fell backwards, bits of rock striking him in the face and in his eye stalks. She finished him off with a couple shots to the torso.

A Twi'lek tried to charge her before she could shift her aim, armed with a small blaster pistol and a vibrosword. She released her trigger and met his charge head on, swinging out with the butt of her rifle. She knocked the sword from his hand and then struck his other arm, keeping him from shooting her. Moabis repeated her attack, alternating between using the stock and the barrel as a bludgeon, keeping the Twi'lek off balance.

A moment later the pale skinned alien grew frustrated and grabbed the barrel of her rifle, preventing her from hitting him in the head. But then he screamed, the flesh on his hand sizzling from the heat of her barrel. He stared at his hand in anguish, dropping his guard and allowing Moabis to strike him in the head with the stock of her weapon. She had already spun her rifle around by the time he hit the ground. She put quick bursts of shots into his chest at point blank range, ending his life in a cloud of blood vapor.

Moabis turned towards the Imperials at last, the Twi'leks blood dripping from her armor. They stared at her in shock, their mouths wide open. Two of the Imperials aimed their blasters at her.

"I am friend," Moabis announced loudly in basic. "The one you come for is there," she added, nodding towards Half-Stock's hiding place.

"I think this is the one working for our informant," Cereen said. She stood under own power but winced at the pain in her hip, the wound there feeling like it was on fire.

"Right. Where is your master?" Lorne Krom asked, pointing his small blaster towards Moabis' face.

"Not here," she answered, eyeing him carefully. She kept her rifle pointed down, not wanting to give the humans any reason to shoot her. "Do not need point at."

"What are you saying? I can't understand you?" Lorne asked, raising his voice, as if speaking louder would help Moabis speak a language she hardly used any better.

"She's saying lower your blasters, idiots, she's with us," Cereen snarled.

"How do we know she isn't trying to trick us?" Krom asked.

"She just killed the people trying to kill us. She could have just blown us all away if she had wanted to," R's said, having just raised himself to his feet. "Lower your blasters and let's get a move on. Where is the Nautolan?"

"Here," Moabis said, turning and finding Half-Stock, who had been sleeping exactly where Moabis had left her.

"Help her out," R's ordered. One of Krom's men grimaced but then put one of Half-Stock's arms over his shoulder. Moabis took the other.

"We still need to find and eliminate Poualiac," Cereen said, glancing towards Moabis. "Do you know where he would be?"

"Not here," Moabis repeated. "Not upstairs. He try escape."

"Then we need to head towards the front terrace," R's said. "Let's move people, double time." Together the group moved down the corridor, enlarged with the addition of Moabis and Half-stock.

oOoOo

Poualiac had nearly slithered his way to the main entrance to the palace, which was the quickest way to the safety of his frigate. He could hear an enormous amount of blaster fire behind him and around several corners, the sound echoing off the walls. Around him were a retinue of his most loyal servants. The fact that their loyalty was ensured by shock implants didn't bother him. Up ahead he spotted a group of his men descending a spiral staircase near the entrance. He recognized Logamar leading them.

"Why haven't your men stopped the intruders?" Poualiac demanded angrily. He wasn't used to Logamar failing him.

"The traitor Moabis blew up the armory. Everyone only has their personal blasters."

"Damn her," Poualiac snarled. "She's working with my wretched nephew."

"I believe Agarma is with them as well."

Poualiac roared in anger and reached for the bracelet containing the shock implant remote. He keyed in the code for Agarma and Moabis, but each time a red light signalling transmission failure lit up. The traitors were either out of range or Agarma had found a way to sabotage the implants. He cursed himself for hiring the former Trade Federation executive, spitting on the ground between himself and Logamar. He should have enslaved someone far less capable to be his majordomo.

"I want them dead!" Poualiac shouted. "I'm getting on my ship. Bring me their heads in fifteen minutes or I'll use my ship's transmitter to fry you and all of your men."

"They'll be dead before you get on board," Logamar said, responding with excitement rather than fear at Poualiac's ultimatum. He bowed before his master and then reorganized the last of his soldiers, dividing them into two groups that could attack from separate sides of the corridor. "Master," he said before Poualiac could depart. He retrieved a small blaster pistol from his pocket and held it out. "In case there is trouble on your way to your ship."

Poualiac took the small weapon and hid it between two folds of his flesh. "Good luck, Trandoshan." The Hutt turned and led his retinue outside of the palace. They were halfway up the ramp that led to the landing terrace when he heard a shout from above.

"Uncle, I see you made it out alive!"

Poualiac was forced to shield the sun with his hand. He recognized his nephew's voice but couldn't make him out, as the young Hutt had positioned himself in front of the setting sun. "Come down here and face your superior!"

"Like you faced my mother before you ended her life?" Pokama shouted. "You were too much of a coward to challenge her with honor."

Poualiac growled in anger. He had taken over the family's kajidic by removing his elder sister. The same way she had removed their father a generation prior. It was the way of the Hutts to compete with each other, each generation having to fight to establish dominance. What did it matter whether he had challenged his sibling to combat according to the ancient rites or if he blew up her ship from afar. Agarma must have told Pokama what had happened. He would be sure to chop that traitorous Neimodian into little bits before all of this trouble was through.

Poualiac reached for the blaster that Logamar had given him. "I'll show you honor," he shouted in Huttese. Before he could aim towards Pokama, who's slug-like form was hard to discern in front of the sun, a torrent of blaster fire erupted from above.

Pokama fired his weapon with reckless abandon, the multi-barrelled blaster whirring rapidly as it spat energized plasma towards his Uncle and his retinue. Most of them tried to scatter away from their master in a panic, but there was nowhere for them to go. Shots fell upon them, blowing them into pieces. Pokama carefully guided his weapon around his uncle, saving him for last. Poualiac fired back with his little pistol, but all of the shots missed comfortably. Finally only the elder Hutt remained.

"Goodbye Uncle," Pokama called. "The next time I'm on Nal Hutta I'll be sure to tell the elders how you begged for your life."

"I will not beg!" Poualiac shouted.

"Well...they won't know that." Pokama pressed the trigger of his blaster, directing one last stream of energy into his Uncle before his ammo canister ran out. If Pouliac shouted in pain Pokama couldn't hear it over the roar of his weapon. The elder Hutt was blown apart in a shower of blood. Pokama held down the trigger even as the gas canister emptied. The sizzling hot barrels of the gun continued to spin until he finally threw the weapon down with a clatter. He turned away as his Uncle's lifeless body slid down the ramp.

oOoOo

Ceeren ducked behind an alcove as the group met with yet another group of Poualiac's mercenaries. She had lost track of how many of them they had killed today. She glanced around as the others hid themselves behind whatever cover they could manage. Lorne Krom hid behind one of the stormtroopers he had brought with him from the ISB. The other stormtrooper was towards the rear of the group, keeping a watchful eye on Moabis and the Nautolan pirate. She was grateful that had Moabis had delivered their v.i.p to them. Without the Klatooinian's help she doubted whether they would have fought through this resistance in time to accomplish their objective.

R's stood on the opposite side of the corridor from her, firing his blaster down the hall towards the enemy. She gripped her father's sniper rifle and swung around the stone column, firing a single shot towards a Rodian. Her bolt struck his chest and threw him backwards into the distant wall. She quickly retreated behind cover as a smattering of return fire came at her. Luckily the enemy were only armed with small blaster pistols. If Moabis hadn't blown their armory they would have been in real trouble.

"The alien won't last much longer," Krom said, glancing over at Half-Stock. Moabis knelt in front of her, attempting to keep the tortured Nautolan alive with a medpack supplied by the Imperial strike team.

"Alright, we're going to have to rush them," R's said. "Cereen, lay down some cover fire. I want everyone else to rush forward."

"Are you insane?" Krom asked, his voice going an octave higher.

"This isn't a tea party soldier," R's growled. "I gave you an order."

"Alright, alright," Krom said. He motioned for one his fellows to take the lead.

"Alright...go!" R's shouted.

Cereen spun around from behind her cover once again, emptying her magazine in a reckless bout of fire. The enemy hid behind their columns as bits of rock erupted from the walls and ceiling. When they emerged to return fire they suddenly found the Imperials barreling towards them. R's took down a Twi'lek and the stormtrooper a Gran. Krom missed his target, another Klatooinian whose leathery skin was several shades darker than Moabis'. Luckily the Klatooinian panicked, firing his blaster wildly and attempting to back away from the Imperials. R's struck him in the shoulder with a blast and then tackled the canine-like alien, taking him to the ground. He quickly brought out the knife hidden in his boot, plunging it into his enemies chest and killing him. He stood up from the corpse just in time to hear a roar come from behind.

The stormtrooper guarding Half-stock screamed as a long blade erupted from his chest. Logamar lifted the Imperial into the air, hoisting him up on the bayonet of his rifle. He threw the lifeless human aside and brought the stock of his rifle to his chest. Firing a pair of shots towards R's, the other stormtrooper, and Lorne Krom. One shot went wide while the other struck Krom in the shoulder, throwing him to the ground.

Cereen turned in shock, dropping her sniper rifle hastily and bringing up her pistol. Logamar fired first but she threw her body into a roll, causing the shot to miss high. Logamar charged forward, using his rifle like a polearm. He struck Cereen with the flat side of his blade, throwing her to the ground. She cried out in pain, her already wounded hip striking against the stone.

Moabis struck out from behind, firing a shot that struck the enormous bipedal lizard in the back of his shoulder, blowing apart his armor. Logamar roared in pain and spun around, seeking to chop off the Klatooinian's head. But Moabis brought her own rifle up, catching the blade with the barrell.

Logamar pushed forward, throwing Moabis back into the nearest column and knocking her rifle out of her grasp. He chopped downwards with his axe-like bayonet but Moabis caught the blade with her gauntlet. It dug through the ceramic armor and into her forearm, but she growled in fury and struck out with her forehead, catching Logamar in the nose. He staggered backwards.

"E chu ta, sleemo," Moabis spat. "I've wanted to take you down for a year now," she shouted in Huttese.

"And I've wanted to removed your head for the same amount of time," Logamar responded. "I never wanted you on my team."

"Only because you were afraid of being shown up," she answered. She bared her claws, a barbaric gesture according to her people's culture. But she was long past caring about societal norms.

She struck out with her clawed hands, digging into the Trandoshan's forearms. Logamar struck out with a clawed hand of his own, but Moabis caught the strike beneath her armpit. She struck while she had him disoriented, clawing at his eyes. He roared in pain as she blinded him in one eye, but the pain served only to fuel his rage. He threw his weight upwards, lifting Moabis off of her feet and throwing her across the corridor. She tripped over Cereen and fell backwards.

R's ran forward, firing his blaster into Logamar as the tall lizard man met his charge. Two of the shots struck the Trandoshan in the chest, blowing his armor apart and opening up enormous wounds. But, somehow, the powerful being kept going. Logamar grasped R's by the arm and pulled, ripping his arm from his shoulder socket and dislocating the joint. R's cried out in pain as his blaster fell to the ground. Logamar brought a huge fist into the Clones back, knocking him to the ground. Lomagar turned from the clone, aware that he couldn't afford to focus on one opponent for too long, lest another shoot him from behind.

His instincts were correct. Before he could completely turn from R's the other stormtrooper brought his blaster up and fired, striking Logamar in the hand, blowing it off completely. The Trandoshan howled in pain and fell to the ground. He scrambled for his rifle, finding it with his healthy hand and spinning back around. The stormtrooper took too long to aim. Logamar slashed with his bayonet, striking the human through the middle and killing him instantly.

He stood, his body finally beginning to be fail him. But Logamar gritted his teeth and walked forward towards R's. The clone gave a battlecry and pulled out his knife, burying it into Logamar's thigh just as the Trandoshan brought the bayonet down. Cereen shouted in anger as she watched the clone die. She tried to struggle to her feet but received a kick from Logamar, sending her back down.

"I told Poualiac I would kill you all," Logamar said, his mouth dripping dark blood. "The Scorekeeper is surely watching me now," he added, referring to one of his species' most sacred deities. "How many Jagannath points do you think she will award me for four Imperials and one Mandalorian clone?"

"Zero Jagannath points," Moabis said in Huttese, staggering to her feet. Logamar turned to find the Klatooinian raising her rifle. "There is nothing honorable about you, your master, or anything you've done in his service."

Logamar appraised her, his head beginning to swim as the wounds he had suffered took their toll. "Anything _we've_ done," he clarified. "Do not think you can redeem yourself."

"I will try," Moabis said. "Beginning now." She fired her weapon, striking Logamar in the chest and sending him flying backwards. The formidable mercenary was dead at last.

Cereen crept over to R's, placing a hand on his armored chest. Tears streamed down her face, but she took a deep breath and pulled her comlink from her belt. "This is Attendant Faye. Can you read me Agent Dekai?"

"I can read you," came the reply immediately. "What's your status?"

"R's is dead. Both of Krom's men are dead. Krom is...wounded. I'm wounded. We need immediate medivac."

"Already inbound," Dekai answered. Cereen could hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the comlink. "One of General Adelhard's Star Destroyers is due any minute. What about the mission?"

Cereen glanced at Moabis, who in turn glanced at Half-Stock. The Nautolan was snoring gently, apparently completely oblivious to the brutal melee that had taken place around her. "The v.i.p is secure. Poualiac escaped, however."

"No, he didn't," Dekai revealed, earning a shocked expression from Moabis. "Pokama eliminated him. Mission accomplished Attendant."

Cereen nearly collapsed, not out of relief, but out of exhaustion instead. Her body screamed in pain and excess adrenaline caused her body to twitch uncontrollably. She wished she could simply pass out. But she couldn't, not yet.

Moabis knelt down beside her, opening up the medpac. "Medicines help," the Klatooinian said in basic. "Human fought well. Fight over now." She offered a pain killer injector and Cereen nodded.

oOoOo

Outside of the palace Poualiac's frigate took off without its master. Pokama watched from the cockpit of his shuttle as the ship ignored his calls to surrender. He hoped very much that the Imperials wouldn't blow it apart before they jumped to hyperspace. That ship was the only bit of Poualiac's legacy he was interested in.

"Congratulations," Agarma said from behind. The Neimodian sat in the passenger compartment, as casual as could be.

"Congratulations?" Pokama asked.

"You are know the ruler of your kajidic."

"My kajidic? It consists of hardly much more than this shuttle."

"Fortunately I have access to all of your Uncle's accounts. And this," she held up the datacard Poualiac had intended to use as a bargaining chip with the local Imperials. "Hardly starting from scratch."

"Why should I trust you?" Pokama asked. "You just betrayed your master."

"No, I did not. I am my own master," Agarma said, her cybernetic implants she had for eyes not betraying any emotion. "Serving your Uncle was a worthwhile way to live out my exile. But his overthrow, and the gratitude of the Imperial Intelligence service because of it, can end my exile."

"Did you plan this all along?"

"I don't have that kind of foresight," she said. "If I did I would have abandoned Nute Gunray before Dooku led us to ruin."

Pokama decided to leave her Separatist past unexplored, for now. "What now?"  
"I'll help you rebuild your family's empire."

"And what would you get out of that? You can't believe I will trust you."

"You shouldn't trust in my loyalty. Instead trust in the mutual benefit we can bring each other. Once we've rebuilt your kajidic and earned the trust of our Imperial allies, you will help me return to a position of influence on my homeworld. Once I've done that I'm sure I can find ways to benefit your business."

"So you propose a cycle of mutual benefit," Pokama said, nodding. "Very well."

"Good. Now let us focus on staying on the good side of our...allies." She nodded towards the cockpit. Pokama turned, spotting the distant form of an arrowhead shaped Star Destroyer descending through the atmosphere. A trio of TIE fighters roared overhead, shaking the hull of the shuttle.

"Orders?" the Gran pilot asked, his three eyes blinking nervously.

"I think we should stay put," Agarma said, folding one knee over the other beneath her dark robes.

"Agreed," Pokama nodded. An Imperial shuttle passed over them, followed by another set of TIE fighters. It was an impressive display of power. One day he too would command power like that, even if it took him a hundred years to amass it.


	24. Chapter 23: Threats and Warnings

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

The wealthy suburbs of Jappa City were quiet and still. The expansive lawns in front of the manors were host to beautiful, obsessively manicured ornamental trees. Birds sang from the boughs, filling the neighborhood with music, interrupted only by the rumble of Imperial shuttles passing by overhead as they flew towards the nearby spaceport.

Thane Pereth rolled over in bed. Bright morning sunlight blasted through his window, the Jappa system's sun cruelly attempting to rouse him from sleep. He wished he could just stay in bed...but no, he had a business to run. A child, possibly two if Kasyndra's belief that Kel was still alive were true, to worry about out.

His bedroom was huge, big enough for a four-poster bed twice as long as his body on one side and a small library on the other. A fireplace, not technically practical with modern technology, provided warmth and comfort between two antique bookshelves. Jappa had very short winters, so, unfortunately, he never used the fireplace much. The native firewood on Jappa was also very poor quality, especially if you didn't want your house to smell like sap.

A knock came at the bedroom door just as Thane was getting into his slippers. "Yeah, come in," he answered.

"Sir," came an answer as the door opened. A crimson and gold protocol droid entered the room, carrying a large box. "Your mail."

"Mail?" Thane asked, crossing the room as the droid set the shipping container onto the table near the door and then exited the room. The box was as large as his chest, and, as he tapped the top, very sturdy.

Thane examined the shipping label. The box had been sent from one of the smaller cities on Jappa, on the other side of the world. He recognized the surname...it had been sent by one of the refugee families that he was sheltering.

Feeling secure that the package was safe to open, and that his protocol droid, which was equipped with scanners and security programming, would not have delivered a bomb to his bedroom, Thane opened the box.

Inside was a heavy durasteel object that he couldn't immediately identify. He pulled it out, groaning slightly at the weight, and set aside the box. The boxy device looked mechanical, with a tubular structure in the middle that rose out from the top. At the back was a heavy looking battery. Thane peered at the strange device until he finally found an activation switch.

He pressed it and was greeted with a whir of activity. A blue light burst out from within and a long antenna began to extend from the top. Thane leaned back as the antenna unfurled a small dish and then rotated about, clearly getting its bearings. A series of flashes erupted from the tubular middle, and then a steady beam of light rose into the air.

"Asirya?" Thane gasped as his ex-wife's face appeared before him.

"Thane," she answered, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, which reminded him so much of his daughter, Kasyndra. He hadn't seen Asirya's face in almost a decade, but she seemed to have aged very little. Perhaps a few lines in the corners of her eyes, and he couldn't help but notice the beginnings of silver peppering into her black hair.

"What the hell?" he asked. "Why go through all this trouble of shipping a...is thing a miniature Holonet transmitter? Why not just call like a normal being?"

"When have I ever done anything the easy way," she answered, smiling gently. Thane couldn't help but noticing there was a strain to her smile...an uneasiness in her eyes.

"Fair enough," he said, smiling slightly himself. "Why are you calling now? A lot has changed you know…"

"I know that it has," she said, nodding. "And not only on Jappa. The whole galaxy is slowly being transformed by the Empire." She paused for a moment. A bit of static briefly obscured her image. "Are the kids with you?"

"No, they aren't," Thane answered. "And that is exactly what I need to tell you about?"

"What happened? Did Governor Sant do something to them? Did he take them?" she asked, a bit of panic quickening her speech.

"Kasyndra is offworld," Thane answered, taking a deep breath. He supposed he should start with the child he knew was still alive. "Yan Po Lom is with her...she's searching for you, actually."

"Searching for me? She's still a minor Thane, why would you let her go offworld without you?"

"She'll be an adult in months," Thane responded. "Plus, she's too much like you. If I didn't give her my blessing to go, she would have gone by herself anyway. And...as I know you remember," he added, gesturing towards the shipping container, "there are still a lot of refugees you left behind. Your sacrifice wouldn't mean much if I just abandoned them, would it?"

A shadow of anger passed over Asirya's face, but it faded. Her eyes seemed to stare through him, into the past. "No, you made the right decision," she said, the words seemingly painful for her to say out loud. "What prompted Kasyndra to come after me?"

"You mean its not enough for her to miss the mother she barely knows?" Thane said, a bit harsher than he intended. He stared at the floor for a moment. "She went because she needs to tell you something...something I would have told about as soon as it had happened, if I had any idea where you were."

"Tell me what?" Asiyra asked. Her eyes narrowed, and then went wide as she realized Thane had failed to mention her son thus far. "Where is Kel?"

Thane stared up at Asirya as the holographic image of her face hovered above him. He wished he could tell her this in person. "He's gone, Asirya. I think Governor Sant, or Moff Sawn perhaps, killed him."

"What happened?" she asked, fighting back tears.

oOoOo

Kel Pereth sat as his new desk, deep within Imperial Intelligence headquarters. Even deeper than usual. The Moonlight Shade, known as the Firepetal Oath when his father had owned it, sat within a high security service bay beneath the main hangar of the The Floor. The flat, bullet shaped _Barloz-class_ freighter had been completely gutted by the technicians working underneath Kel's supervision. All that remained were the skeletal girders and bulkheads, although the much of the rusted out hull was going to be reused as camouflage. That material currently sat in a pile in the corner, watched over by a dormant load lifter and welding droid.

Kel's 'office' was a narrow room behind a thick panel of transparisteel. One door led into the service bay, while the other led out into the hall. He had three computer terminals open in front of him. One of them was an engineering program that was automatically generating a schematic for the Moonlight Shade's power system. Once it was finished he would be able to order wire and circuitry from Supervisor Van, who had been promoted to fill the role of the deceased Supervisor Huff. The other terminal was a state-of-the-art holographic display. Floating above the desk was his half finished render of the what the ship would look like once he was finished with the design. However, the eight boxy engine nacelles that sat atop and beneath the ship were still empty. His idea to hide powerful, state-of-the-art engines within the outdated engine pods the freighter had come equipped with thirty years ago had hit a snag. He was having trouble finding an engine small enough to fit in the nacelle and yet powerful to be worth the trouble. He had a feeling he was going to have to design one himself.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and spotted one of his techs moving towards him across the service bay, a woman named Luana who was just a few years older than he. The door slid open with a hiss and she entered his office.

"Hey boss," she greeted, removing a pair of thick work gloves and wiping some of the sweat from her brow. She wore her hair in tight braids, which helped to keep it out of her face while she was working. "I think I'm going to call it a day."

"Alright," he answered, swinging his chair around to face her but not getting up.

"Are we going to be able to start putting in new plating tomorrow?"

"Not until the power system is finished," Kel answered.

"What about the ribbing for the deck plates?"

"Not until the power system is finished," he repeated. "Until I know how everything fits together I'm not moving forward. I don't want to have to start removing or drilling through things that are in the way if a girder or support rib ends up in a bad spot."

She glanced at his three terminals, the third of which displayed a dense forest of computer code that she didn't understand. "Okay...So what do you want us to do tomorrow morning?"

He was tempted to tell her to take a day off, but he felt his superiors would frown at it. "I'll send you all back to the Floor until I'm ready for the next phase."

"Understood," she said. "I'll tell the others." Kel thought the conversation seemed to have wrapped up, yet Luana hadn't left. "Sir, I know it's not my place but…"  
"My experience, as limited as it is, as an Imperial has taught me that if you have to preface something, you're better off not saying it," Kel said, frowning at her.

"I know but...I don't have the clearance to know what purpose this is all for, or what our timeline is, but it seems to me that we're moving rather slowly. Do you need some help with the design work? This is your first design isn't it?"  
Kel wished he had a pen that he could click aggressively in order to show his annoyance. "Why, are you secretly a designer?"

"Well, no, I'm just a good mechanic," she began, attempting to backtrack gracefully. "I only meant that we have teams upstairs that have been doing this for years. I know this is top-secret...the fewer eyes on it the better, but maybe you could borrow some of their work in order to speed up the process."

Kel stood at last, taking a deep breath in order to calm his nerves. "Borrow _their_ work? They are retrofitters, at best. I'm basically building a whole new ship. If they just wanted any old ship with a few hidden compartments and some extra weapons, they would have ordered it that way. But instead they asked me to do it, which means we're not going to take the easy route. We're doing to do it right."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Sorry I just...was just trying to be helpful."

"I appreciate it," Kel said, softening a bit. "The others….do they resent me?"

"Sir?" she asked, her expression briefly flashing between confusion and reluctance.

"Do the tech's resent me because I'm, in some cases, younger than their children. I've only been here a month or two, and I already outrank them."

"Rank is all that matters. We do what we're told, sir. It doesn't matter what the person is like who gives the orders."

"Right...I'll try to remember that," Kel added, retaking his seat.

"I'm off," she said, giving him a casual salute and then re-entering the service bay. A moment later the flood lights went off, giving the large room a dark, tomb-like appearance.

Despite his annoyance at being questioned, Kel couldn't help but know that Luana was right. He needed to speed up the process or he risked Agent Dekai's displeasure when he returned from whatever mission he was on. He needed an assistant who could help with the design work, yet he knew he couldn't ask to add anyone to his team. He spun in his chair until he rotated to the other window in the room, the one that looked out into the main hall. An officer happened to be walking by, his face buried in a datapad. A black and grey astromech droid followed in his wake, its servo motors whirring loudly across the quiet hall. Kel smiled. He needed a droid of his own.

He popped up from his chair prepared to log out of his computer terminals. The program that was rendering the power systems had frozen. Without knowing what power levels it would be working with from the engines, or what kind of hyperdrive he was going to install, it could go no further. That was fine. Once he had an astromech droid he could have it search through Imperial inventory and make its own recommendations, rather than having to do it himself.

Kel bent over his desk, saved his work, and then logged out of the system. But then he paused, glancing up at the security camera in the corner of the room that monitored his every movement. An astromech from Imperial Intelligence would no doubt be just another way for them to spy on their employees.

He grabbed his personalized datapad, which he had hacked and loaded with programs that monitored the video feeds from his apartment, and placed it into his bag. He smiled slightly. Hacking an astromech droid would only be slightly more difficult than the work he had done to circumvent Imperial Intelligence's bugging of his apartment. He just needed the right tools….

oOoOo

Kel exited a hover transport amidst the crowd. He glanced upwards at the towering structures of the Fobosi District. High above him were the headquarters of some of the largest corporations in the galaxy, but very little of that wealth seemed to have trickled this far down.

He jostled through the crowd, a mixed array of more species than he could count, until he found his way to the sidewalk, beneath the overhang of the next level up. He had left his Imperial uniform at home, instead donning a generic cloak he had purchased at a clothing store and the modified goggles he had used to help him hack into the Imperial relay box. After he had taken the cloak out of the store he had rubbed it around in the dirt of an alley, in order to disguise its newness. He had also rubbed some of that dirt onto his face as well. Coupled with his Mid Rim accent he believed that hardly anyone would mistake him for an Imperial Agent.

He rejoined the crowd and slowly made his way down the street. Those living in the upper levels would likely consider this region a ghetto, but he knew that things got far worse a few hundred levels further down. Here there was grime, but there was also culture. There were vendors selling food out of carts, scavengers trying to hawk their junk, and music bouncing out of every apartment building. Unlike the upper levels near his apartment, and certainly unlike the region around Imperial Intelligence headquarters, this area felt alive. Gone was the clinical sanitation, the Imperial sense of order that bordered on dreary.

Finally Kel found his destination, a dingy storefront beneath the cliff-like face of an apartment building. There were no signs indicating that a store existed behind the thick durasteel doors. Kel lowered his goggles and activated its infrared sensors. Immediately a sign, painted in the style of graffiti, revealed itself on the grimy wall. The twisting aurebesh symbols were accompanied by a cartoonish version of an astromech droid, which was apparently shooting lasers and flying through hyperspace. Kel smiled and approached the store, removing his goggles. He noticed a small security sensor activate underneath the overhang, but he paid it no mind as he pushed open the doors. He had taken a risk by leaving his blaster behind, but if the shop's security system decided he wasn't a threat, it was worth it.

Inside he found a long series of shelves, which reminded him very much of the scrap bin inside of Imperial Intelligence headquarters. Each shelf was filled with electronic scrap, eviscerated droids, and half dismantled computer terminals. Kel scanned the room, finding that the droids in a more complete state lined the walls. There were more models present than he had ever seen before. He couldn't help but smile. If heaven existed he had surely found it.

"Hey, can I help you?" a gruff voice called. Kel turned to find a Herglic staring at him from behind a workbench at the back of the store. The being resembled a black and white whale that had grown arms and legs. He was huge and muscular, and his nerf hide apron was smeared with grease. The Herglic wore a red monocle that connected with a cybernetic implant into the side of his head. The monocle appeared to serve a similar purpose to the goggles that Kel had built.

"Yeah, I've got a shopping list," Kel answered. "I heard this was the place to come to." He approached the work bench, removing his datapad from beneath his cloak.

"Heard from who? We don't exactly advertise," the Herglic asked.

"Oh, but you do. You, or whoever else runs this place, left bread crumbs all over the Shadownet," Kel said, referring to an illegal communications network that operated outside of the confines of the Holonet. "Someone went around inserting advertisement into metadata. I liked the one I noticed for the security firm. You'd think they would've noticed someone had tampered with their page."

"Hmph…" the Herglic grunted, a burst of air erupting from the blowhole atop his large head. "My sons handiwork. He's good with code. He left our coordinates you say..."

"Yeah, a bit reckless…" Kel agreed.

"I'll give him a talking to later," the Herglic sighed. "My name is Wahi Ero. What can I do for you?"

"You can call me KP," Kel said. He activated his datapad and pulled up his shopping list. "I need equipment in order to reprogram and modify an astromech droid. An Industrial Automotan R-series model."

"What's so special about that?" Wahi asked. "You could get those parts at any legitimate shop."

"Not at any shop," Kel said. He scrolled down on the list, revealing the more sensitive items. His datapad didn't have the processing power in order to get past the layers of security that the Empire installed in their droids to prevent them from being reprogrammed, thus he needed to purchase a dedicated computer. He also needed a heavy duty restraining bolt that could withstand the anti-tampering system and increased power of a militarized astromech.

"Ah, I see," Wahi nodded. "I've got secure compact terminals and several class five restraining bolts, but they are going to cost you." Kel handed over his datapad, allowing Wahi to look over the entire list.

"How much for the lot of it?"

"Twenty five thousand, at least," Wahi said. The Herglic eyed him carefully, clearly not convinced that the young human had that much credit on hand. That was almost as much as Kel would make in an entire year, at least at his current position on the Empire's pay scale.

"How about a trade deal?" Kel asked.

"Oh no, I don't think so," Wahi said, handing Kel back his datapad. "You were clever enough to find the shop, but don't think that means you can come in here with your pocket change and do business. Go home kid."

"I've got more than pocket change," Kel said, shaking his head. "I'll take my list and fifteen thousand in store credit...in exchange for the location of every communications relay box the ISB has hacked in the sector."

Suddenly Wahi's eyes went wide with fear. "What are you talking about? You don't have information like that. Get out of my shop."

"Yes, I do," Kel said. He pressed a few buttons on his datapad, and a holographic map of the Fobosi district projected into the air between them. The communications relay boxes, which secured the transfer of information through Coruscant's thick cityscape, were highlighted in red. He tapped another button and a half dozen of the boxes lit up green.

"You're bluffing," Wahi said. "Any small fry hacker could get the location of those boxes from the city government and pretend some of them are hacked."

"I'm not bluffing," Kel said. He pressed another button and the map disappeared, replaced with the schematic of the collar he had installed on the relay box near his apartment building. "This collar hijacks the information stream the Empire uses for their surveillance systems."

"How do you power it?" Wahi asked, curiosity threatening to overpower his fear.

"Phantom power from the box. No external power means no way to detect the device. If they happen to discover the collar during routine maintenance an automatic shutdown occurs without a security code entry. A self-destruct fries the circuits and the maintenance workers would only notice an aberrant chunk of metal they don't recognize."

"If you can prove this really works…"

Kel once again switched his datapad's projector. This time an information stream from the collar he had installed during the riot appeared. The information was encoded and hard to follow, but undeniably real. "It works. I can throw in the schematics as part of our deal."

Wahi seemed about to raise his hand to shake on it, but paused at the last second. "The only way you could have come by this information...the only way you'd have the resources to design a collar like that…"

He could tell that Wahi was no fool, but Kel had covered his tracks. He had only included relay boxes the ISB had tampered with in the information he was prepared to offer the Herglic. If he sold the information to other hackers and one of them got caught, the ISB would suspect a leak in their own organization, and not their rival. He also had not included any relay boxes near his apartment. It would be impossible to tie this info back to him. Unless Wahi talked to the ISB personally…

"You're smart to be suspicious," Kel said. "But the fewer questions you ask, the better. I only included a sector, but I obviously have access to more than that. With this information any decent hacker should be able to recognize other tampered boxes for themselves. This data is worth a lot more than the value of the parts I'm asking for. Your...discretion...is what I'm really buying. You don't tell anyone where you got this info, I don't tell anyone about this highly illegal business enterprise you're running."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise," Kel said. "If you don't like it, I can take my business elsewhere. There are plenty of shops like this on Coruscant." Kel didn't actually know if that was true or not. But if he had turned up this place in only a few minutes of searching he was sure he could find others.

"Alright, you've got a deal," Wahi relented. He offered his massive hand, which engulfed Kel's as they shook on it. "Give me twenty four hours to gather what you need. Upload your data onto my server."

"Understood," Kel nodded.

"You've got an address for delivery?"

Kel had rented a garage not much bigger than a bedroom a hundred levels below his apartment. Space was expensive on Coruscant, but he figured he could hack a droid apart in only a night or two. "I'll leave it in the data. The delivery time will have to be...specific." He would have to use his collar to interrupt Imperial Intelligence's hacked relay box. He couldn't risk a stray security camera picking up the delivery of parts he needed to hack a government droid, even a hundred levels below his apartment.

"Alright," Wahi nodded.

"Thanks," Kel said. He smiled as the Herglic turned towards the computer terminal on his workbench so he could monitor the data Kel was uploading from his datapad. "Go easy on your son. He had a cypher on the shop's coordinates he's hiding in that metadata."

"You broke his cypher?" Wahi asked, apparently once again regretting his decision to do business with Kel. "Who are you?"

"Just a regular human," Kel said, shrugging. "A freelancer."

"I doubt that," Wahi said, groaning.

oOoOo

Asirya's face was still as Thane finished catching her on Kel's fate. He had told her how he had gone on a test flight that he had never come back from. How the Imperial government claimed he had died in the crash, yet had not been able to recover a body. How Kasyndra believed that the Imperials were lying, that her brother was still out there, somewhere.

"I think Kasyndra's right," Asirya said at last.

"But its been months now," Thane said, sighing. "I've even paid people to look in on the Imperial prisons, just in case Kel was rotting away in one of them. He's not here."

"Perhaps not, but the people you hired may have missed something," she said. Her eyes narrowed, and Thane recognized that look. It meant wheels were turning behind those dark eyes. He was astonished he remembered her mannerisms so clearly after all their time apart. "If they had shot him down and killed him, Governor Sant would have paraded his body in front of your house. Likewise if Kel was being kept in some black ops prison. Sant would have sent you video of them torturing him, just to hurt you."

"I don't understand why that man still hates us so much…" Thane said, shaking his head.

"Sant only has one blemish on his record," Asirya said. "His failure to crack down on the refugees we pulled out from under his nose and have kept hidden from him ever since. I'm sure he thinks he would have been made Senator of the Maldrood sector by now, otherwise."

"...so what do we now?" Thane asked.

"Leave that to me," she answered quickly. She glanced away for a moment, apparently at someone on her end of the call. "I've been busy since I've been away...I can't get into it now, even over a independent connection like this."

"You won't even tell me what sector you're in? I could at least point Kasyndra in the right direction."

"No," she shook her head. "If she's grown up as much as you say, she'll be able to find me on her own. Especially with Yan Po Lom's help. I need you to just...carry on as normal. But I arranged for the transmitter to be delivered in order to tell you something. The Imperials are hunting me. There are hardly any Jedi left for them to hunt, and I've been moving up their priority list. If I continue to frustrate them they may come after you, to use against me."

Suddenly Thane wanted to stop the conversation and jump to the window. It would be just his luck for them to arrest him the instant he knew he was under threat. "I'll be careful," he said.

"Just be prepared to run for it at a moment's notice. I know how much you've sacrificed over the years, and I know that you've done it quietly. But you won't do the refugees or anybody else any good from an Imperial prions," Asirya warned.

"I know," Thane said grimly.

"This transmitter's battery is almost used up. Before it goes dead it will self destruct its circuits, to prevent any tracing attempt. So this could be the last time we speak for awhile."

"Just don't make it ten years this time," Thane said, smiling.

"I'll try, Thane," Asiyra said, a bit of sadness creeping into her voice. "Goodbye." With that the transmitter died. A burst of light erupted from within, followed by a bit of smoke rising from the device.

"I love you too," Thane said to himself.


	25. Chapter 24: Corellia

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Fog and low lying clouds shrouded the highlands of Corellia's northern continent like a blanket. Small villages dotted the mountainous countryside, the only sign of civilization this far from the planet's capital city, Coronet. Herds of wild paralope, goat-like creatures that called the mountains home, roamed freely. A group of them grazed atop an ancient mountainside, the once soaring peak brought low by millions of years of erosion.

One of the paralopes, the elder of the pack, suddenly stood upright, its ears focusing into the distance. A buzzing sound, at first distant, suddenly grew louder until it turned into a high pitched wail. Two Imperial TIE fighters shot through the mist, causing the paralopes to shriek in fear. The herd scattered as the fighters roared overhead, followed by the lower pitched rumble of an Imperial _Lambda_ _ **-**_ class shuttle.

The trio of craft continued on through the mountains until they came to a valley that spread out before them like a bowl filled with trees, streams, and the scar-like disruption of an archaeological dig site. The site clung to the side of a mountain, a small village of tents and heavy equipment arranged upon a terraced clearing. The TIE fighters buzzed the tents with only meters between them and the ground, causing the hundreds of workers to scatter. The turbulence left in their wake buffeted everything that wasn't tied down, causing a dust storm that swept through the site like a destructive tsunami.

The shuttle descended from on high, settling between the furthest row of tents and the edge of the treeline further down the mountain. The shuttle's wings folded upright, bringing the ship into its triangular landing configuration as it touched down. A moment later the boarding ramp lowered, releasing several dozen Imperial stormtroopers.

The stormtroopers spread out, ordering everyone out of their tents. A lieutenant with pale skin, wearing a tan military dress uniform, exited the shuttle, followed by a Corellian Security officer, who wore a dark grey uniform.

"Line everyone up," the lieutenant ordered. "Search every tent. Bring me the head researcher!"

"I really don't think you're going to find her out her," the Security officer said. The man, who appeared to be in his late thirties, scratched the back of his neck with one hand while he held a datapad in the other. His brown hair was slightly unkempt, which was very typically Corellian.

"Is that your professional opinion, or do you know something that I don't, officer Horn?" the lieutenant shot back.

"I already told you everything that CorSec knows," Horn answered. The stormtroopers were rapidly emptying the tents around them. A large group of archaeologists had been rounded up and assembled for review at the center of the encampment. "We have had no confirmed sighting of Asirya Par in months."

"Yet you have been reading her communications…" the lieutenant said, eyeing his local counterpart suspiciously.

"Professor Kalimdron's communications…" Horn clarified. "We have no confirmation he is actually communicating to her, and not someone else using a similar alias."

A stormtrooper sergeant, the distinguishing feature between him and the other stormtroopers being an orange shoulder pad, stepped towards the lieutenant and saluted, interrupting the terse conversation. "Sir. We've assembled every civilian in the encampment."

"Good," the lieutenant nodded. He turned towards Horn. "Make yourself useful and check to make sure every member of the research team is present."

"As you wish," Horn said. He brought a small datapad out of his pocket and brought up a roster. He began moving down the line of researchers, quickly glancing at each one to confirm their face matched their profile.

Meanwhile the lieutenant spotted the head researcher, a rather forlorn looking Caamasi. The fur-covered humanoid stood in the middle of the group, his three-fingered hands crossed over his robed abdomen. "Are you Eleron? You're the one in charge here?"

"That is correct," Eleron answered, a rather distant look on his face. He kept his long snout pointed towards the ground.

"Where is Asirya Par?"

"I have not seen her in years," Eleron answered, hardly glancing at the Imperial.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you," the lieutenant shouted. "Where is she?"

"I have not seen her in years," the Caamasi repeated. "I do not know her current location."

"Oh? Then why are you mentioned working with her by the Head of the Archeology Department at the University of Corellia? By Professor Kalimdron."

"He must have been speaking in the past tense. I have not seen her in years. I do not know her current location."

"Oh really?" the lieutenant asked.

"Perhaps we should try a different line of questioning," Horn suggested. He stepped in front of Eleron, who shifted his gaze to take in the security officer. The Caamasi's demeanor seemed to soften ever so slightly. "Can you provide an up-to-date map of your dig so we can search the tunnels?"

"Yes," Eleron answered. He motioned to one of his assistants, a human woman, who promptly stepped forward with a datapad and transferred some files to Horn's device.

"I'll transmit these to your squad leaders," Horn said to the lieutenant. "That way we can search the tunnels ourselves instead of wasting time with your...circular...line of questioning."

The lieutenant scowled angrily but didn't seem able to come up with any convincing reason to countermand his Corellian counterpart. He ordered a squad of stormtroopers to stay behind and watch the researchers, freeing up the majority to head towards the tunnel entrance at the other side of the encampment.

"I think I'll go with your men," Horn said, waving his hand in front of the lieutenant in order to get his attention. "You should stay behind."

"I…" the lieutenant suddenly seemed to relax, his eyes becoming unfocused. "Yes, you should go with my men. I will stay behind." The imperial shook his head, as if clearing invisible cobwebs from within. "I have better things to do than tramp around dank tunnels. I'll be on the ship." With that the lieutenant turned and left, heading back towards the Lambda shuttle.

"Good idea," Horn said to himself quietly.

oOoOo

"I'll try, Thane," Asiyra said, a bit of sadness creeping into her voice. "Goodbye." Asirya turned off her holo-transmitter, terminating the connection that allowed her to speak to her ex-husband halfway across the galaxy. She leaned back in her canvas chair, glancing around at the inside of her tent. The sound of the Corellian night penetrated the cloth walls of the tent. She could hear crickets chirping in the distance, as well as the distant hoot of an owl. It was nearly winter, and already cold up here in the mountains.

She pushed the sleeve of her jacket upwards, revealing an antique chronometer she wore around her wrist. The heirloom had once belonged to her mother, who had received it as a gift from a Chandrillan artisan. The pricey device was analog, all gears and springs, but it could be configured to match the day/night cycle of any planet. It was the only thing she wore that would identify her as Asirya Par, the second daughter of a wealthy Chandrillan politician. Everything else...her hair color, her skin tone, her weight...she could change those to match any alias. But she wouldn't abandon her mother's chronometer.

It was only an hour or so until dawn. Any moment now...then she heard it, the sound of speeder engines approaching in the distance. She jumped up from her seat and hid her holo-transmitter, stuffing it inside a box meant for archeological artifacts. The device's counterpart on Jappa had just self-destructed, but she could always pair it to a new device if she wanted to contact Thane again. She exited the tent, her black, shoulder length hair billowing in the wind as two speeders set down at the center of the digsite.

Eleron had already arrived to greet the arrivals as Asirya ran over. The Caamasi wore the same formal robe he had worn ever since is homeworld had been devastated in a firestorm. She knew that the robe was traditional garb, something he would wear to a wedding. Or a funeral. That had been over a month ago.

A human pilot emerged from one of the speeders and greeted Eleron. "Sorry if we're early," the woman said.

"You're right on time," Asirya said, yelling to be heard over the sound of the speeder's engines. Her black air billowed in the wind generated by the engines. "Did you have any trouble?"

The pilot motioned towards his boxy speeder. A door unfolded from the back and a family of humans emerged. "No," she answered. "But the Imperials are on to us. They, and some people from the Diktat, were snooping around the university. This might be the last group we can get out of the system."

Asirya glanced at Eleron, who seemed to nod in agreement with her. She had known the Caamasi for over a decade but was often still surprised at his ability to read her body language. Perhaps the alien had some borderline Force sensitivity.

"I think it was going to be the last group anyway, this year at least," she said. "Winter is coming soon, and digsites always such down during the winter." She glanced at the group of people that had emerged from each speeder. They looked haggard, scared, but also hopeful. Someone from each group, or someone they knew, had crossed either the Imperials or the local Diktat, the oppressive regime that had ruled Corellia decades before the Empire had even existed. If they tried to get out of the system they risked being caught. And if they were caught they risked life in an Imperial prison. Which was really a drawn out death sentence. "This way," she motioned. "We need to get you out of the open."

She led the roughly two dozen refugees through the camp. Most of the archeology investigators were still asleep. Or pretending to be so. If one was asleep, one could not be a witness. After a short climb up the highest terrace the group arrived at the entrance to the tunnels. Eleron activated a control panel hidden against the stone of the mountainside. The tunnel leading deep within the mountain lit up with inner light as the glow panels activated.

"I'll head back to the camp keep watch," Eleron said to Asirya, bowing slightly as he left to put the refugees at ease.

"This way," Asirya said, taking a glow rod from a nearby bin and entering the tunnel. The refugees, the children amongst them clinging to their parents, followed. At first the tunnel seemed natural. This part had been carved out of the mountainside by the archaeologists, natural passages expanded with careful drilling. But things changed as the group reached a cavernous clearing. The natural limestone gave way to material that was artificial and ancient. The walls here were a polished material that seemed something between stone and metal. Here and there circular carvings danced around them, glowing with a faint inner light that seemed to follow the group.

Finally they arrived in a tall chamber. The ceiling had been hollowed out, allowing repulsor sleds to remove material emptied from within the mountain with maximum efficiency. A handful of the sleds, which didn't look like much more than trash containers with engines, sat parked inside of the clearing. Asirya walked over to one of the sleds and activated a hidden control panel. The top, which seemed to be filled with rocky debris, popped upwards, revealing a hidden compartment within.

"This sled is equipped with life support systems and anti-scanner equipment," Asirya said. The refugees appeared skeptical. "They take material removed from the site to a processing facility to the south, which sorts the material to weed out any valuable minerals. Once this one reaches the facility your sled with be redirected to a freighter owned by my organization. From there you will be taken to Alderaan, disguised as freight."

"That doesn't sound very appealing," an older man said, his voice trembling.

"Would you rather spend the rest of your life in an Imperial prison?" Asirya said. He shook his head, after some hesitation. "Then you should all get inside."

The refugees filed in, finding the interior much more comfortable than seemed possible from the outside. When all of them were safely inside Asirya sealed the container behind them. The top lowered, and the sled didn't look any different from any of the others.

Asirya went to work, waking up the four hibernating industrial droids stationed near the corridors that led to other parts of the archeological site. The big droids were centuries old, humanoid-shaped lumbering machines that were as loud as they were bulky. If anyone came snooping hopefully the droids would provide an adequate distraction.

Suddenly her comlink, which rerouted its signal through a series of antennae installed inside of the tunnel for a secure connection to the outside, beeped loudly. "Yes," she answered.

"The Imperials are on their way," Eleron said ominously. "You have only a few minutes."

"Thanks for the warning," she answered. Asirya glanced around the room. If they caught her here they might do a more thorough search and find the refugees. She took off at a run, choosing one of the side corridors at random, her glow rod held high. Eventually she came to a closed off room that was filled with ancient computer equipment that defied modern scrutiny. There were console shaped tables set throughout, but they were made of the same stone as the corridors themselves. There were no identifiable buttons. No electrical inputs. No one had any idea how the devices functioned or what they were supposed to run. She identified one of the consoles that was large enough to obscure her body and squeezed behind it. She extinguished her glow rod and hid it behind her back. And then she waited.

The only light illuminating the room was the peculiar glow emitting by the swirling carvings on the wall. The glow was in the corridor outside of the doorway.

"Go away," she muttered. "You might as well be telling them where I'm hiding." To her astonishment the light went out. "Thanks…" she said, no small amount of fear creeping into her voice.

oOoOo

Kasyndra Pereth stood sidled up to a bar in Coronet cities' main spaceport. The facility was modern but heavily used. Bits of trash drifted here and there, trampled underfoot by the thousands of beings that passed through the place each day. Yan Po Lom stood next to her, his tall leonine frame overshadowing her. She wore a tanned leather flight jacket and tight cloth pants. She wore her belt loose around her hips, although she lacked a blaster to go with it. If it wasn't for her Mid-Rim accent she would be able pass for a pretty typical Corellian. She glanced around herself at the multitude of beings that drifted through the wide halls. There were more species than she could count, let alone recognize. It was so much less homogenous than Jappa.

She glanced up at the drink menu behind the droid bartender. The drinking age was also lower...suddenly the sound of a dozen pairs of hurried footsteps approached from behind. Kasyndra turned to find a squad of stormtroopers staring at them, blasters raised.

Yan Po Lom stepped in front of her, shielding her with his massive body.

"Kasyndra Pereth, Yan Po Lom," one of the stormtroopers said, his voice filtered through his helmet. "You're under arrest."

oOoOo

Hal Horn reluctantly followed a squad of stormtroopers into the archaeological tunnels. He had spent almost his entire life on Corellia, but he had never before visited one of these sites. The idea of an ancient civilization whose ruins dotted not only Corellia but the other sister planets in the system, ruins that defied explanation despite decades of research, gave him the creeps. As they explored the tunnel a glowing light seemed to follow them on the wall. The stormtroopers ignored it, their focus squarely on finding hiding refugees and a wanted criminal, and not wondering about the mysteries of the universe. But, as the stormtroopers fanned out, Hal couldn't help but wonder what the glow was, what powered it. He reached out with the Force and felt...something. Something strong, but unidentifiable and intangible. His father, a Jedi Master who had died shortly after the Clone Wars, had never said much about these ruins.

Finally they came into a large chamber whose ceiling opened up to the sky. A handful of repulsor sleds sat parked within, filled with excavated stone. Four industrial droids rumbled slowly back and forth, picking up buckets of rock and depositing them into the sleds.

"Search the bins," the stormtrooper's squad leader ordered. Hal could sense the refugees hiding in the sled near the far wall, through the Force.

"I'll take this one," he called out. He approached the sled and made a good show of looking into it. The refugees were sealed within a hidden compartment. He felt no signs of fear from them. Clearly they had no idea a dozen stormtroopers were nearly on top of them. "It's clear he called out."

"Alright," the squad leader said as the other troopers signalled the other sleds were clear as well. "Split up and search the side tunnels. Shoot to stun. We want to bring in the target alive."

"Affirmative," Horn said, nodding. He made a show of pulling out a blaster pistol, although he didn't bother arming it. He glanced around the chamber at the various entrances to the side corridors. The stormtroopers were already hurrying down them. He reached out with the Force, and then smiled. He took off at a run, catching up with one of the pairs of troopers just as they reached the room Asirya had hidden herself in.

The troopers stepped into the room, the glowlights on the ends of their blasters scanning the room. One of them spotted a foot just barely poking out from one of the consoles.

"You there, hands up!" the trooper shouted. Asirya cursed and stepped out from behind the consoles. She kept her glowrod hidden behind her back. "Put binders on her," the trooper said to his fellow.

The other trooper approached, dropping his blaster down in order to retrieve a pair of cuffs from his utility belt. As he neared she tensed up, ready to bludgeon the trooper. She didn't know how she would avoid being shot by the other.

Just as she was about to swing she heard another pair of foosteps in the hall beyond the room. "Freeze!" Hal Horn shouted.

The trooper approaching her suddenly stopped. The other, his blaster still trained on her, likewise seemed to stop in place. Asirya meant to swing the glowrod and knock out the nearest trooper but found that she too could not move.

Horn stepped into the room. "Asirya Par," he said, a slight grin on his face. "They caught you at last."

"Hal Horn?" Asirya asked. He stepped into view, his face illuminated by the light reflected from the trooper's blasters off of the wall.

"None other," he said.

"Would you release me?" she asked, mildly annoyed.

"Sure," he said. "Just don't do anything stupid."

She felt something fall away from her body, like an invisible hand that was holding her in place had suddenly vanished. She revealed the glow rod from behind her back but decided not to use it as a weapon. For now.

Horn stepped between Asirya and the troopers. "There is nobody in this room," he said, a commanding tone coming over his voice. "You should keep searching elsewhere."

"There is nobody in this room," both of the troopers repeated in unison. "We should keep searching elsewhere." One trooper lowered his blaster while the other put the cuffs back into his utility belt. Together they turned and left like nothing had happened.

"That's a neat trick," Asirya said. "Wish I could do that."  
"I bet you don't," he said after some hesitation. "If the Empire knew what I was they would be hunting me a lot harder than they are hunting you."

"I knew you were a friend to the organization, but I didn't know you were a Jedi," she said, staring at him curiously.

"I'm not a Jedi...not technically," he responded. "I never completed my training, and my dad broke a lot of rules training me himself."

"Didn't complete your training?" Asirya asked. "You don't seem half trained to me."  
"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't gifted," he answered back, laughing.

"What about the refugees?"

"They're safe, as far as I know. The ones in the repulsor sled are all of them?"

"Yeah," Asirya said.

"Well, I can cover for you today," Hal said. "But you got lucky. I just happened to be in the office when the call came in. I hadn't been..."

"I get it," Asirya answered, nodding. "What tipped them off?"

"They hacked into Professor Kalimdron's communications. You may have friends like me in CorSec, but we can only do so much. There are a lot more ISB agents in the system than there used to be. I support what you've done here...but it might be time to move on."

"You might be right," she agreed. Her thoughts suddenly went to the family she had abandoned years ago.

"I want a status report," came the harsh voice of the Imperial lieutenant through Hal's comlink. A series of reports streamed in from the stormtroopers. Each of them reported an all clear.

"Horn?" the lieutenant asked.

"All clear," Hal answered, holding the comlink up and eyeing Asirya. "I think this is a wild paralope chase."

"Frakking hells," the lieutenant cursed, breaking military discipline. "I want everyone back to the transport immediately. We just got a call. The target's daughter just showed up at Coronet spaceport."

"Copy that," Hal said solemnly.

Asirya eyes went wild. "They have Kasyndra?"

"...It could be a false i.d," Hal offered.

"I have to get to her," she said, panicking. She was about to burst past Hal when he held up a hand.

"Hold on," he said. "The kind lieutenant may have came up empty this time, but that doesn't mean he's given up. The Imperials had probe droids on their transport. They're going to be watching the site. Your only way out is on one of your repulsor sleds. And even then, you can't just show up at the Imperial administrative building and bail her out. Let me handle this."

"I...I suppose I don't have any choice but to trust you," Asirya said at last. "I don't like being in people's debt," she added, eyeing him warily.

"Your not in my debt," he responded, shaking his head. "It's the least I can do...after all the people you've gotten out of the system. Helping your daughter is the very least I can do."

"Thanks Hal," she said. "I won't forget this."

"Thank me after I've saved the day," he said, smirking slightly. "You sit tight for a few hours."

"Horn, get your ass up here," the Imperial lieutenant shouted over the comlink, "Or I'm leaving you behind."

"Better go," Hal said. He nodded towards Asirya, turned, and then took off down the corridor.

As soon as he left Asirya nearly collapsed onto the floor.


	26. Chapter 25: Ferocious

**Chapter Twenty Five**

The Imperial-class Star Destroyer _Ferocious_ plied through space, a titan that dominated the void. The _Ferocious_ , under the command of General Adelhard, had responded swiftly to Agent Dekai's request for aid on Mataou. Hours later, after landing his _Lambda_ shuttle and allowing the _Ferocious's_ medical staff to care for his team, Dekai watched on the bridge as Adelhard gazed out of the destroyer's expansive forward viewport. A former colonel from the Stormtrooper Corps., Adelhard had risen quite suddenly to the rank of general after a swift subjugation of the Anoat sector. Dekai was sketchy on the details, but he knew it involved industrial sabotage and the release of poisonous gases onto an entire population. Dekai did not know what a mass murderer was supposed to look like, but the fit, handsome man with wavy brown hair standing before him didn't seem to match his imagination.

A half squadron of TIE fighters appeared from beneath the pointed bow of the destroyer, heading off towards a nearby asteroid field to flush out a potential smuggler's nest. Adelhard turned away from the viewport as the fighters rapidly escaped visual range. He approached Dekai, revealing his brown eyes to the agent, and suddenly Dekai's mental image of the man clicked into place. His eyes were cold and distant. There seemed to be very little emotion on the man's face. Perhaps slight annoyance, directed at the Imperial Intelligence agent himself.

"In the future I would like to be appraised beforehand whenever Imperial Intelligence is operating within my territory," Adelhard said. His voice did not have the typical Imperial accent. He seemed to have been raised somewhere in the Mid Rim. But he did speak with deliberation and authority.

"Your territory, General?" Dekai responded. He placed his hands behind his back and place an expression of mild amusement upon his face. "The Anoat sector has yet to be formally absorbed into the Empire."

"Which is why I'm in charge," he answered back bluntly. "I have the equivalent rank of a Governor, and soon will formally possess that title as well."

"You're very confident, I will give you that," Dekai said, shrugging.

"The Emperor spoke with me directly. He was highly pleased with my suppression of the revolt on Anoat."

"I'm sure he was," Dekai said. "But Imperial Intelligence is concerned with the whole galaxy, not just a particular sector. You might possess the de facto rank of a Governor, but my boss has the de facto rank of a Grand Moff." Dekai wore his sabacc face well. Adelhard didn't need to know exactly where Dekai fit into the chain of command at Imperial Intelligence. "If the Director decides to loop local authorities into operations it is only because your assets are necessary, and not because he wants to protect your pride."

"I'll remember that the next time you nearly get all of your people killed on my turf," Adelhard responded, his expression darkening.

"Of course," Dekai said, bowing slightly in an expression of de-escalation. "I understand your position. Is there anything else you needed, General?"  
 **"** If any other Hutts decide to move into their old stomping grounds on Mataou I would appreciate a heads up from Imperial Intelligence."

"I can make sure that frequent reports are sent to your staff."

"I would also like to open a channel with Krennic."  
 **"** The Director of Advanced Weapons Research?"  
 **"** I have an interest in what he's done with his special operations team. Death Troopers, I believe he calls them."

"It's a very creative name," Dekai said, biting his tongue slightly. "You want a squad or two for your personal guard?"

"No," Adelhard said, placing his arms across his chest. "Whoever is responsible for training and outfitting them would suffice. I have my own plans for an elite Stormtrooper variant."

"I'll put in a word," Dekai said, hoping his implied accommodation would cool the General down.

"Very good," Adelhard said. "You have unlimited access to the _Ferocius'_ s facilities until we reach Anoat. After that your shuttle will be leaving for Imperial Center."

"I can work with that," Dekai agreed. Adelhard turned his back on Dekai as soon the conversation ended, moving towards the flight controller's crewpit to observe the mission his TIE fighters were carrying out. Dekai was happy to depart, quickly removing himself from the bridge and heading for the infirmary. He hoped the former pirate rescued from Mataou, Half-stock she called herself, would be able to survive outside of a bacta tank before they reached Anoat. Otherwise he would have to get creative to keep the aspiring Governor from shooting all of them and dumping their bodies into deep space.

oOoOo

The _Moonlight Shade_ was beginning to take shape in the high security service bay deep within Imperial Intelligence headquarters. Reinforced durasteel had replaced the rusted out frame, new transparisteel had been placed in the forward bridge, and some hull plating had been installed along the keel. The engine, crew, and cargo compartments were still notably absent. The lack of any engine selection meant it was impossible to design a power system to enable sensors, shields, or weapons.

Kel sat in his office, on the other side of the thick transparisteel window that provided him a view of the work going on in the service bay. The multi-screen holoprojector in front of him was rotating through a series of schematics, showing him some of the outfitting Imperial Intelligence had done on other civilian model freighters. It included scanner proof smuggling compartment designs borrowed from slavers; weapons storage bays hidden behind walls and beneath sleeping bunks; Pop out missile launchers hidden beneath hull plating; Illegal sensor jammers installed within civilian equipment. Everything had to be modified and adjusted in order fit on a ship plan that was new to Imperial Intelligence.

The doorway that led into the inner hallway opened behind him with a whoosh of air, along with a pair of footsteps and the whirring sound of an astromech droid's motorized wheels. He spun in his chair to find Supervisor Van standing before him. She had replaced the technicians outfit she had worn when he had first met her with a crisp uniform befitting her newly assumed Supervisor rank.

"This looks like it's coming along...slowly," Van said, not looking at Kel but instead through the viewport towards the _Moonlight Shade._ Her long red hair was tied back into a braid that fell down her back. Previously she had worn it up in a bun. She was also absent any dirt or grease on her face. He felt that she almost looked like a different person.

"We're basically designing a whole new ship," Kel said, slightly defensive. "We have to modify every component in our inventory. The stock configuration was basically inadequate on every level."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just pick a ship we already had outfitted and just modify it?" Van asked.

"Sure, but where is the fun in that?"

"It will stop being fun if Agent Dekai gets back from his field work and you still don't have a ship for him. The higher ups are starting to get impatient with this pirate situation."

"I'm assuming that is what the astromech is for?" Kel asked. "You fulfilled my requisition?" The astromech waiting beside Supervisor Van was an R3 model. It was painted in colors that were typically Imperial; black, grey, and red. This one had a slightly transparent domed head, which showed off its internal sensors and processors.

"Yeah, I expedited this one for you. Pulled in a few favors and grabbed him from our droid pool. This is R3-PT." The droid whistled and beeped in confirmation. Despite communicating in what was the equivalent of digital birdsong the droid seemed to have a dour demeanor.

"Nice to meet you," Kel said, raising his hand in greeting.

"This droid was first assigned as a supervisor, debugging navicomputers on Imperial transports and reprogramming other astromechs. It turned maintenance requests from organic staff into action plans for other droids on destroyers. Ordered replacement parts. After the end of the Western Reaches campaign it was transferred to an upgrade program and went off to COMPNOR. There it helped modulate scanners and spying equipment."  
 **"** So how did it end up with us?"

"Counter-espionage captured it and installed some spying programming," Van answered as she stared down at the droid. "It helped us keep tabs on our..competition. It came in to upload data to our servers, which is when I requisitioned it for you."

Kel frowned. His suspicions that any droid Imperial Intelligence gave him would be loaded with spying software was not only correct, Van had come right out and said it. "Am I allowed to install new programming?"

At that the droid's domed head swivelled towards Kel. It fixed it's red eye onto him, forcing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat. At least the astromech droid he had cobbled together from spare parts back on Jappa, BR2-DE, never looked like it might attack him. Kel supposed that being captured and reprogrammed with spying software had made the droid paranoid. He couldn't blame it.

"I'm sure you will need to in order to help with your work. The droid reports exclusively to you, but remember that it is Imperial property."

"Sure thing," Kel said, nodding.

"Right, well, I have to be going," Van announced as she began to leave. "I hope this droid speeds up your work. For your sake." Kel ignored the ominous warning as she exited the room. The droid stayed where it was, unmoving, its eye fixed on him.

"I understand droid-speak, so you won't have to connect to a translator to talk to me," Kel announced. He wheeled his chair over to a nearby table where he kept his shoulder bag. He grabbed his datapad from within, as well as the reinforced restraining bolt he had purchased from Wahi Ero's shop. He palmed it before pulling his hands out of the bag, keeping it hidden. He spun in his chair until he faced R3-PT.

"I think I'm going to call you 'Repeat' for short," he said. "Confirm alias."

The droid whistled in the affirmative.

"Good. Come here, I've got some data for you. I need to get you up to speed on the ship we're building." R3-PT wheeled over until he was within reach. Kel pulled a hidden data cable from the datapad and plugged it into one of the droid's input ports. As he leaned over he placed his other hand beneath the droid, placing the restraining bolt on its underside.

R3-PT whistled loudly in alarm but then immediately froze as the bolt took over its operating system. The bolt was more sophisticated than the standard model, able to get past the defences the Imperial government had installed into the droid and deactivate any spying programming. It would also put the droid into passive mode, forcing it to follow whatever order Kel gave it, even if it broke Imperial protocol. The bolt was a temporary measure. If he allowed the droid to plug into the network Imperial Intelligence's computers would detect the restraining bolt and immediately flag the droid as a security threat.

Luana, one of the technicians who worked for him, appeared in the doorway leading to the service bay. "Is everything okay? I heard something…"

"Just getting to know my new assistant," Kel said, pushing his chair backwards towards the holoprojector screens. He stood and gestured down towards the new droid. "This is R3-PT, or 'Repeat' for short."

"Nice to meet you Repeat," Luana greeted, smiling more warmly than she did towards most actual people.

Repeat whistled back, much more cheerfully than before, the restraining bolt causing it to abandon its grumpy attitude.

"How is it going in there?" Kel asked.

"We're still waiting on parts from manufacturing. It's taking longer than usual because they have to run everything through security," Luana answered.

"Alright," Kel said, glancing at the chronometer on the wall. "Why don't you tell everyone to call it a day." She nodded and headed back into the service bay. Kel waited until Repeat had finished uploading all of the data on his datapad and then pulled out the cable. "We're going home too. I've got some work to do…" he considered the droid for a moment. If he took public transit he risked the droid bumping into something and accidentally knocking off the restraining bolt. "I think we're taking a taxi today."  
Repeat whistled an affirmative in an overly cheerful manner that bordered on manic and then moved to follow Kel out the door as the human grabbed his bags. The restraining bolt was clearly the artificial intelligence version of mind control, and it wasn't playing nice with the droid's natural personality. As Kel led the astromech out into the hall he decided today was not a good day to ponder droid ethics….

oOoOo

Dekai arrived on in the _Ferocious's_ medcenter to find his tattered agents scattered about the room. Half-stock floated unconscious in a bacta tank, a thick cap with tubes running out of it covering the stump of her severed hand. Agent Krom sat in a corner of the room, his head held between his hands, unresponsive to the activity around him. He was the only survivor out of the three ISB agents who had joined the team. Si Nommon stood, a datapad in hand, next to the Klatoonian mercenary who had defected from Pouliac's service, interviewing her.

Dekai glanced around the room for Cereen and then suddenly found her barreling towards him, her blonde hair stained with blood. Her top was off, her chest and torso covered in a bandage wrap, a bacta patch covering her hip. Dekai got a good look at her numerous bruises and minor cuts as she grabbed the front of his dark grey uniform with both hands.

"What the hell kind of mission was that?" she shouted angrily. "You sent us in there...no intel on the opp force. R's is dead!"

"I'm aware of that, Attendant," Dekai said carefully. "If you thought that every mission would be a cake walk, that every factor would be known…"

She shoved him backwards, causing him to impact against the wall. "I just don't want to be sent into a meat grinder with a useless amatuer," she shouted, gesturing backwards towards Lorne Krom.

"Obviously I will be having him removed from our operations going forward," Dekai said, pulling himself off of the wall and straightening his uniform.

"Do I need to call security?" asked a medic, the man glancing nervously between the two of them. Cereen suddenly realized that she had overstepped, fear replacing the anger upon her face.

"That won't be necessary," Dekai answered. "Will it Attendant?"

"No sir," Cereen agreed quietly.

"Why don't you get some rest before General Adelhard kicks us off of his ship," he suggested. "Once we reach Imperial Center I'm going to have to require a full debriefing. From all of you," he added, glancing across the room.

"Yes, sir," Cereen said, letting a go of some of the tension she had built up inside of her. She brushed past Dekai, making sure to bump into him violently as she exited. Si Nommon approached, the pointed horns upon her head glistening under the harsh light inside of the medcenter.

"That went better than I expected," the Elomin woman said.

"Really?" Dekai asked, sighing.

"I was sure that she was going to put you inside of one of those," she said dryly, nodding towards one of the bacta tanks.

"How is your interview with the Klatoonian going?" he asked, glancing towards the back of the room where Moabis sat upon on the medical beds.

"Her Basic is a little rough, but she is fully cooperative. She was involved in the battle on Formos between Pouliac's forces and the pirates."

"Do you think she will be useful going forward?" Dekai asked.

"If we are to pass ourselves off as an outer rim pirate crew, we can't have only humans aboard the ship. As I understand she was one of Pouliac's elite soldiers. Without her the mission would have likely been a failure."

"We'll have to compensate her for her assistance," Dekai said. "But Klatoonians are supposed to have undying loyalty to their Hutt masters. What makes you think she can be trusted as a team member?"  
 **"** I can only speculate at this point," Si Nommon said, her eyes going unfocused as she thought deeply. "But I would assume that her Master was abusive. More so than your typical Hutt, even. There is only so much any being can take before cracking, no matter how strong their built in sense of loyalty is."  
 **"** As I've discovered," Dekai said distantly. His uniform was still slightly ruffled where Cereen had grabbed it.

"Klatoonians are a pack species. The prospect of being on her own is probably frightening to her. I doubt it would be hard to convince her to sign up with Imperial Intelligence."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get home," Dekai said. He glanced over at Half-Stock. The Nautolan woman's head tails were drifting gently in the bacta tank, not unlike the streamers of an undersea plant. "Get with the medical staff and make sure our v.i.p can be moved within an hour or two. I'm going to put in a call with Calder just in case."

"Is Adelhard really that territorial?" Si Nommon asked quietly. "Surely he wouldn't risk angering Imperial Intelligence."

"I'm not going to push it in order to find out," Dekai said. "Just make sure he doesn't go anywhere," he added, looking at Lorne Krom, who was still huddled by himself in the corner.

"I don't think that will be difficult," Nommon said to herself as Dekai left the medcenter.

oOoOo

Thane Pereth sat on a high stool inside of his kitchen, a plate of grilled nerf steak upon the naturally varnished table before him. He still wore his dark grey business suit from work. The large house was quiet and empty, the echoes of his children playing bouncing around his head, but existing only in memory. He hadn't touched Kel or Kasyndra's rooms since either of them had gone. His middle aged face had added a few wrinkles in the past few months. His dark hair had grown noticeably gray around the edges.

He forked a piece of steak and dipped it into some the sauce on his plate. As the tossed it into his mouth he noticed the water in his glass next to his plate. It was vibrating, circular waves radiating outward from the middle. A moment later the window next to the kitchen sink began to vibrate, and the floor to ceiling windows that offered a view of the backyard. A low rumbling sound began to shake the whole house until the noise became a roar. He could see a boxy repulsor craft lowering next to the pool behind the house, pushing the grass and water outwards as it descended.

Thane abandoned his food and entered the hall that led to the front door. Through the tall windows on either side of the door he could see two more speeders landing on the front lawn.

"Imperial Troop Transports," he said aloud. They were surrounding the house. He heard the whirring sound of approaching servo-motors and turned to find his servant droid trundling towards him.

"Sir, I believe we have uninvited guests," the droid announced calmly, as if the stormtroopers unloading from the transports were unruly salespeople.

"Can you delay them for a moment," Thane ordered. "I need to get a message out."

"Yes sir, but only for a moment," the silver droid answered. It paused and a series of loud bangs echoed throughout the house as the mansion went on emergency lockdown. A series of durasteel bars rose from the floor and ceiling behind the front door. Similar obstructions barred the windows. "I'll set the house's holotransmitter to tight beam settings. They will not be able to jam it."  
 **"** Thanks," Thane said. He took off at a jog, moving down the hall before reaching the house's darkened communications room. He entered and locked the door behind him. Already he could hear a loud series of bangs that shook the walls of the house. The Imperials had circumvented the security doors by simply blowing holes in the walls.

He activated the communications console and confirmed that his servant droid had altered the settings. He typed a password into the console, activating his encryption key.

"This is Thane Pereth," he said as the holotransmitter activated. A light in front of him indicated the console was recording. "The Imperials have come. They will likely take me alive. I can't guarantee they will not learn of you're locations. Move now. Get offworld if you can. I'm sorry I can't do more." With that he signed off.

He could hear the sounds of blaster fire, and then a loud explosion, from within the house. They had exterminated his droid. He quickly typed in a series of commands, purging the transmitter's data logs. There would be no way the Imperials could trace the signal, and no way for them to discover the contents of his message. Just as he finished sparks began to shower over him as stormtrooper cut through the door. An instant later he raised his hands in surrender as three stormtroopers, their plastoid armor dusty from all of the chaos they had reigned down upon his house, trained their blasters onto him.

"You're under arrest," one of the stormtroopers said, his voice sound almost as robotic as his servant droid as it emanated from his helmet. One of the stormtroopers approached, carrying a pair of binders.

Thane turned as if to accept imprisonment, and then suddenly threw his body weight into the stormtrooper, knocking him over. He hoped that the stormtroopers would kill him. If they did there would be no way to force information out of him. But instead he felt the painful sensation of every muscle in his body contracting as a wave of blue energy washed over him. The stun blast was not enough to knock him out entirely. Instead it left him limp and twitching as the other two stormtroopers grabbed him from beneath his armpits and drug him out of the room.

Thane had nearly regained his senses as the drug him out of a hole they had blown into the side of his house. The orange late-afternoon light suddenly seemed blinding, but he could make out the shape of a _Lambda_ -class shuttle that had joined the two troop transports on his front lawn. Flanked by a pair of guards stood the Governor of Jappa himself, Governor Sant. The tall, white haired man, who was in his early sixties, had once been the Senator of Jappa during the days of the Republic. He had long sought to become Senator of the entire Maldrood sector, but had never achieved that rank when the Empire replaced the ancient galactic government.

"Mr. Pereth, how nice of you to come outside," Sant said, grinning maliciously as Thane was placed before him.

"What's the meaning of this?" Thane asked, his speech slurred slightly from the effects of the stun blast.

"Well, I wanted to show you this," Sant began. He removed a translucent plastoid sheet from within his grey Imperial uniform. Along the top of the sheet, in Aurebesh, was imprinted 'Warrant for Arrest.'

"Your wife evaded arrest on Corellia," Sant revealed. "But not to worry. We got your daughter." Thane felt his heart sink. "You wouldn't know where Asirya Par is hiding, would you? It might go a long way towards granting your daughter some clemency."

"I haven't spoke to my wife in over a decade," Thane lied. "I thought she was dead."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Sant said with a smirk. "What about all that trash you hid from me. Those refugees from the Clone Wars."

"They're dead. You blew up the transport they were on."

"Just like I blew up the transport Asirya was on, right?" Sant gestured to one of the stormtroopers standing nearby, who promptly brought a stun baton into Thane's lower back. Once again his body screamed in agony as blue energy enveloped him. Sant crouched slightly until he was level with Thane, who was bent over in pain. "Tell me where the refugees are and your daughter won't join you and your son in death."

"Go jump into the nearest star," Thane said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Take him away," Sant ordered, waving towards the stormtroopers. He turned towards a sergeant, who wore the standard stormtrooper gear with an orange shoulder pauldron added. "Search his house. Seize every computer and data system. And then burn it to the ground."

"Yes sir," the stormtrooper nodded. Soon, to the dismay of the wealthy inhabitants in the neighborhood, black smoke and burning embers rose into the sky as Jappa's sun began to fall towards the horizon.


	27. Chapter 26: Redemption

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

An airship descended through the atmosphere towards the Royal Alderaan Opera House. Nestled high amongst the Triplehorn mountains, the Opera House was a gleaming structure. Its tiled metallic roofed seemed to flow like cascading water over the mountain, reflecting the golden sunlight of Alderaan's sun as it fell towards the distant horizon.

Circular landing pads, which curved around the top of the mountain in undulating patterns like the petals of a flower, served the Opera House's patrons. The airship, shaped like airborne fish, with repulsor engines mounted upon the tail and thin fin-like wings, found an empty spot on one of the pads. Dozens of curvilinear landing legs popped out from the hull of the ship and gently rested the vessel upon the ground. Numerous boarding ramps lowered along the side of the ship, and down came the passengers. There were members of dozens of species present, from all across the galaxy. All of them were dressed to impress, with radiant, glittering formal wear, appropriate to their physiology.

Amongst the crowd descended a young human woman, a much older man at her arm. She wore a tight fitting, scarlet dress, the neckline descending to her sternum. Aurodium glitter on her skin reflected the sunlight, a silver braid in her long black hair paired nicely with a platinum necklace around her neck. A human bodyguard, whose broad shoulders forced the other passengers to walk behind him on the ramp, followed closely behind.

The trio joined the crowd as they walked towards the entrance of the Opera House. Twenty large doors stood at the top of a wide set of stairs, each one representing one of the founding systems of the Old Republic. A pair of guards stood at each door, each of them wearing a stylish white uniform similar to that of the now defunct Alderaanian navy. One guard took the patron's tickets while the other waved a sensor wand over each guest, checking for hidden weapons.

"Madame," greeted one of the guards as the trio reached the door. "Your ticket."  
The woman barely turned her head before her bodyguard handed the man two tickets and his own certified security credentials. Her pair bright blue eyes seemed to see through the man as he held a datapad upwards, checking their identity matched the ticket.

"Lady Sysan, of Kuat," the guard said, bowing slightly. "Welcome to the Royal Alderaan Opera House." The guard likewise welcome the older man at her arm, although dropping any noble honorific. Onlookers may have assumed that the wealthy older man had married a woman generations younger than he to look good on his arm, but in reality it was quite the opposite. In reality the young woman had married the older man so that he would look good on her arm.

The pair turned as their muscular bodyguard stepped forward, allowing the other guard to wave his sensor wand over his body. The wand beeped loudly.

"No weapons are allowed inside," the first guard warned.

"I'm a bodyguard," the large human said loudly, his voice a deep rumble.

"No exceptions."

The bodyguard grimaced before removing a small blaster from within his grey tunic. He handed the weapon over reluctantly. "You can pick up your weapon after the performance at the security desk," the guard informed him before stepping aside.

"I told you they wouldn't allow it," Sysan said, her voice soft and feathery, hardly above a whisper. The entered the lobby on the other side of the main doors, finding themselves inside of a wide, richly carpeted concourse. Cocktail bars on either end offered drinks to the patrons, with wide staircases on each side ascending towards the second level. Beneath the stairs lay the main entrance to the the performance hall, two huge wooden doors inlaid with aurodium that lay open, allowing the guests to enter.

"Would you like a drink?" the older man asked, his voice surprisingly energetic for his age.

"I don't want to miss the start of the show," Sysan said, shaking her head. Together they ascended the stairs on the right. Once on the second level they took another right down the main corridor until they reached the entrance to their private viewing box. The bodyguard remained in the hall as the two wealthy Kuati humans entered.

On the inside the hall was much like the famous Galaxies Opera House on Coruscant. A wide amphitheatre surrounding a circular central stage. Sysan and her husband took their seats, which were divided from the next boxes over by a thick railing.

Soon the announcer took the stage. "Ladies and gentleman, and neutral gendered beings from across the galaxy, the Royal Alderaan Opera House is proud to bring to you the one and only Nequi Quam!"

Nequi rose from the center of the stage, the powerfully built lioness apparently supported by repulsors alone. Members of the orchestra became illuminated around her as streams of light flew throughout the hall, their music rising in an opening crescendo to match. And then she began to sing, a dynamic voice capable of incredibly high tones, despite her voice coming out of such a huge body. Sysan did not recognize the language in which Nequi sang, but she knew that the Cathar woman was reciting an epic poem from the founding of the Republic, when the Unification Wars became the proving ground of the young Republic.

The performance lasted for nearly two hours with hardly a moments intermission. Sysan jumped from her seat at the end, abandoning her regal calm and joining into the applause. Her husband seemed to have been nearly asleep by the time the performance ended, for there was quite a delay before he too rose to his feet. His applause was much more subdued.

When the applauses faded after Nequi Quam disappeared beneath the stage Sysan finally turned towards her husband. "I'm going to see if I can get an audience," she announced.

"I don't think they will be accepting guests," her husband warned.

"I donate half a million credits a year to this Opera House. I'd like to see them turn me away," she answered back. She left her seat behind and entered the main corridor.

"Madame?" her bodyguard asked.

"Stay with my husband," Sysan ordered. "Make sure he is ready to leave."

"Yes, ma'am."  
Sysan quickly moved down the hall as it curved around the performance hall. As she moved it quickly became crowded with other patrons, until she eventually reached a security checkpoint that divided the public spaces at the Opera House from the backstage areas.

"Ma'am," a security guard said, clothed in the same white uniform as the guard out front. He held up his hand.

"I need to go backstage," Sysan said.

"Do you have a pass?"  
 **"** Is the House of Organa stiflingly uptight?"

"Indeed they are," the guard said. He stepped aside, declining to even look for any credentials. As Sysan passed he returned to his place in front of the doorway, warning other patrons away.

Sysan passed through the backstage area without incident. Despite her lack of credentials no one thought the richly attired woman was out of place. Chefs from the kitchen, members of the orchestra, stagehands and droids; hardly any of them gave her a second look.

Another guard stood between the darkened backstage area and the dressing rooms beyond. Unlike the other security staff this guard wore a tight fitting grey and blue uniform, her blonde hair worn up in a bun. It was Nequi Quam's personal bodyguard.

"Can I help you?" the bodyguard not moving in any outward fashion to block Sysan, but instead drilling into the younger woman with her gaze.

"I'd like to extend my congratulations to Nequi on a marvelous performance," Sysan announced, her voice returning to its regal whisper.

"I'm sure she would be very grateful, but Nequi isn't taking guests at the moment," the bodyguard said, shaking her head negatively.

Sysan stepped towards the guard, glancing around conspiratorially. "I have...business to discuss with your mistress. Concerning her message."

"What business?" the guard asked, her body adopting an alert posture as Sysan grew closer.

"Her message of resistance to the Empire is inspiring millions. However, it is only reaching those already at the margins, on the darknet. I can offer a legitimate channel, where she can reach those ears that her message is censored from."

"You're from Kuat?" the guard asked, taking note of Sysan's accent. "Why would you put yourself at risk like that."

"I'm more intelligent than I appear," Sysan said, her voice abandoning her queen-like whisper and becoming deeper and more mature. But still, she fluttered her eyelashes. "I know how to peddle influence. I know how remain anonymous. I knew how to get back here without so much as a pass."

"Alright, wait here," the bodyguard said. She turned and disappeared into the locker room, returning only a moment later. "You can go in."

Sysan entered the dressing room, which was so much more than its name implied. A large sitting room surrounded a central coffee table, with ample room for numerous guests, with several entrances that led to wardrobes, the refresher, and aquiet room for making private calls. A huge viewport along the back wall offered a view of the performance hall, although the occasional flicker indicated that it was a holographic screen, and not an actual window.

Nequi Quam was seated upon one of the divans. She stared at Sysan inquisitively as the human approached.

"My guard said you wanted to speak with me?" Nequi asked, her voice a deep but melodic rumble. Sysan reached up and adjust her necklace as she approached, in an apparent nervous tic. "I have to admit, I never expected to receive an offer of assistance from a Kuati noble. It sounds too good to be true."

"Well, my father always said…" Sysan began. She reached upwards with one hand, pulling at the silver thread she wore in her hair. "If it sounds too good to be true it probably is."

Nequi was wary of the human, but yet she was still caught by surprise by Sysan's sudden quickness. While one hand distractedly pulled at her hair the other retrieved a long needle hidden within her scarlet dress. Syan leapt forward.

Nequi unleashed her claws and swept outwards in a strike that would tear Sysan's face off, it it connected. But instead the human, anticipating just such a reaction, ducked beneath the swipe and rose, deftly inserting the needle beneath Nequi's chin. The huge Cathar immediately collapsed as the nerve agent attacked her nervous system.

Sysan removed the needle and quickly jumped towards the wall. "Help!" she shouted.

The bodyguard entered, taking a moment to realize her ward's body was twitching on the floor. She realized Sysan was moving towards her just as the needle entered the side of her neck. She too collapsed instantly.

"The ship has jumped the system," Sysan said into her necklace. She quickly stepped over the bodyguards body and re-entered the backstage area. Just like before she passed by unnoticed. Instead of heading back towards the public corridor she made a left turn, finding herself on the inside of a loading dock. She quickly found the dock's control panel and opened the loading door. Security had never even thought to secure the dock from the inside. Sysan was infinitely grateful for Alderaanian complacency.

She walked out onto the ramp, finding a speeder waiting for her. It was night now, with the stars glittering brightly above. The speeder was piloted by Sysan's bodyguard, and her husband sat in the passenger seat. His mustache was missing, however. She went into a sprint and jumped into the backseat. The speeder immediately took off and ascended into the atmosphere.

"Ignite the charges," Sysan ordered.

"Affirmative," her husband nodded. Far below them the Opera House began to erupt in enormous balls of fire. Sysan reached towards her face, removing the contacts from eyes. One fiery red pupil was revealed, the other icy blue.

She blinked rapidly, allowing moisture to cure the dryness caused by the contacts. Her 'husband' pulled off his white haired whig, revealing a cleanly shaved bald head. The man, much younger in reality than his disguise had suggested, threw the whig into the wind. Next he turned towards the backseat, handing 'Sysan' a handheld comlink.

"This is Agent Isard," Ysanne spoke. "Mission accomplished."  
 **"** Acknowledged," came a voice in reply, distorted by weakness of the comlink's signal. "A shuttle is waiting at the extraction point."

"We're five out," the pilot said loudly.

"Acknowledged," Ysanne answered. "We're inbound." She terminated the connection and handed the comlink back to the agent in the passenger seat. She immediately began changing out of her disguise without a hint of modesty, removing and tossing her twenty thousand dollar dress into Alderaan's upper atmosphere. She bent down below the speeder's back seat and retrieved a white shirt, a standard issue garment from the Imperial navy. She pulled it on, and then followed it with a pair of black trousers. But one piece of her disguise, the necklace, remained. She pressed the blue gem within it with a figer.

A holographic video, that of Nequi Quam staring at her as she approached inside of the dressing room, began playing in the air before her. Ysanne smiled. _The Emperor will be pleased,_ she thought.

oOoOo

Cereen sat on a bunk in a tiny cabin on the _Ferocious_. She wore a casual version of the Imperial Navy's uniform, a black top and grey dress pants. It was the only change of clothes available on the starship. Fortunately, after a frantic call to Imperial Center, the threat of General Adelhard kicking all of Dekai's team off the ship had subsided. But it hadn't stopped Adelhard from stuffing them into the smallest guest quarters possible. Cereen's room was not much larger than a closet, but at least it was private. She knew a lot of the Star Destroyer's actual crew could not say the same.

In a corner of the room, the walls, floor and ceiling of which were all the same shade of grey, hung a flat panel holonet display. The only channel available was _Iron Will_ , the official propaganda broadcast from COMPNOR. Cereen watched as she gathered her long blonde into her hands, preparing to put it into a bun.

"...twenty three people were killed before the fires were brought under control, including the disruptive singer Nequi Quam," a new anchor was saying. The man speaking wore a military uniform, notably absent any rank insignia.

"What about the rumours that Nequi was involved with Black Sun gangsters?" the other reporter asked.

"We'll likely never know the truth," the first one said sadly. "In other news, a wealthy shipping magnate from the Mid Rim was arrested yesterday in a dramatic incident that resulted in a spectacular house fire." The view shifted to an aerial view of a burning mansion. Cereen rolled her eyes and began to reach towards the control panel on the wall. "The magnate, Thane Pereth, controls a large shipping concern out of the Jappa system. He has been accused of using his freighters to smuggle contraband, including sentient trafficking."

Cereen's eyes went wide at the mention of the name. Could this 'Thane Pereth' be related to Kel? He was from Jappa as well. The coincidence was likely too much to ignore. She realized suddenly just how long it had been since she had spoken to her friend. It had been mere weeks, but felt like much longer.

By the time Cereen had refocused her attention onto the holoscreen the report on Thane Pereth had ended. A moment later a tone from the door sounded, the equivalent of a knock.

"Come in," she said loudly. A speaker in the corridor would relay the message to whoever was in the hall. The door opened, revealing Agent Dekai. The middle aged man appeared wearier than ever.

"Attendant," Dekai greeted stiffly.

"Sir," Cereen answered. She got to her feet, her unfinished bun falling back down.

"Are you still pissed?" Dekai asked abruptly.

"I can speak freely?"

"Obviously," he said, sighing.

"I'm still not thrilled with they way the mission was planned out or executed but...there is nothing that can be done about it now. I'm trying my best to move on."

"Well said," Dekai agreed. "I have a promotion for you."

"A promotion?"

"Yes. You are now an Operative," he said dryly. "Congratulations and all."

"Thanks…" Cereen said slowly. "Am I replacing R's?"

"As combat team leader, yes. Overall you will be third in command. I'm bringing in someone you are familiar with. Senior Operative Kolija. He's replacing Lorne Krom."

"Your kicking Krom off the team?"

"He was generally useless before our mission. Now, he's even worse than that. Coupled with the fact that neither of his friends from the ISB made it out alive...I don't think the ISB will be eager to put any other of their agents in our program in the near future."

"I suppose that is a silver lining," Cereen agreed.

"Perhaps," Dekai said. "Now that you're an operative I'm going to be giving you more non-combat duties."

"Such as?"  
 **"** Throw on a jacket and follow me," Dekai ordered. He entered the corridor and waited a moment until Cereen joined him. She had quickly put on a long sleeved dress jacket. She nearly had the appearance of a junior navy officer.

"Where are we headed?" she asked as they began to move down the hall. Other personnel, aware that they were from Imperial Intelligence, gave them a wide berth.

"Interrogation," Dekai answered. "Si Nommon is waiting for you. You are going to get as much information about Moabis and Half-Stock as you can."

"Interrogation? Are they prisoners?"

"No, but that is where General Adelhard assigned them quarters," Dekai said. Cereen glanced at him, surprised that he seemed annoyed by the Empire's standard human-centric bias.

"Afterwards, after we reach Imperial Center, I want you and Kolija to work on training them on standard Imperial procedure."

"That will be fun," Cereen said. "I don't remember seeing a single non-human in my training class."

"If you have biases I'm going to have to order you to ignore them," Dekai said sternly. "We're professionals, not fanatics."

"No sir. I was referring to...everyone else that we will have to share the training facilities with. Especially Moabis, she can barely speak Basic. Are they going to be official recruits?"

"Contractors, technically," he answered. "Everyone might give you a wide berth, perhaps cast sidelong glances in your direction, but they won't interfere. You're an Operative now. You're very likely to outrank anyone who might give you problems."

"And if I don't?"  
 **"** Tell them they are interfering with a Class A assignment and the Director will have their ass bound for Kessel within an hour. Or, you know, something like that," he said, with a slight smirk.

"Understood sir," Cereen nodded, smiling slightly herself. "I'll get to work."

Dekai nodded and then turned back down the corridor, looking like a man who had a thousand things on his mind. As soon as he was gone one thing returned to Cereen's. She wondered if Kel knew about what was going on with his family.

oOoOo

Kasyndra Pereth sat huddled in a corner, alone in her prison cell. She wore a white prison uniform, which had become quickly become stained a dull grey. The prison was loud, dirty, and wet. It seemed ancient, with just enough modern technology to keep the inmates from escaping. There was hardly any light to illuminate the interior, although what light did exist consisted of garish colors reflected from the city outside of the prison. A short window at the very top of the wall allowed greenish and pink tones inside, diffuse through the fog.

She swept some of her pink hair from her face, trying and failing to keep it from sticking to her face. The Imperials had picked up her and Yan Po Lom almost immediately after they had landed at Coronet City spaceport, only two days ago. She had expected to be tortured, to be asked incessantly about her mother and her whereabouts. Instead they had hardly asked anything at all. She suspected that the Imperials had only arrested her in order to exert leverage on someone else. Her mother, or perhaps even her father. After all, Thane had explained his part in protecting refugees from the Clone Wars from the Imperials.

She heard a trio of footsteps approaching from outside of the cell. She raised her head and spotted a Corellian security officer approaching, flanked by two Imperial stormtroopers. The other prisoners in the cell across from her grew silent at their approach. She rose to her feet, shaking slightly. She had been given hardly any food since her detainment. Neither had she been able to sleep a wink. She had been visited by several Imperial agents, and by several local security officers, but she didn't recognize this one.

The Corellian approached her cell and stared at her, his face impassive. "Open it up," he said. His voice seemed weighty and authoritative, and the stormtrooper immediately obeyed the order. "Come with me," the officer commanded. "Don't make a fuss."

Kasyndra suddenly felt a very powerful sense of obedience come over her, but she resisted. "I want to talk to a lawyer," she demanded. "And I want to see Yan Po Lom." She had repeated the demand everytime the Imperials had visited her or took her to one of the many interrogation rooms located within the prison. They usually ignored her outright.

"I think we can arrange that," the Corellian said, a curious expression coming over his face. "If you don't make trouble."

Kasyndra stepped forward, holding out her hands, expecting to be cuffed. The stormtroopers stared at her, nearly motionless, until she frowned in confusion.

"Well, go ahead," the Corellian sighed. "Put on her restraints." One of the stormtroopers suddenly started, as if he had nearly fallen asleep. He removed a pair of cuffs and slapped them on her wrists, but didn't bother tightening them on all the way. Kasyndra stared at them, bewildered, but said nothing. "Let's go," the Corellian ordered. Together the group exited the prison block.

They led her through the corridors, until the reached one of the interrogation rooms she had become used to. But instead of stopping they continued walking, much to her surprise. "Where are we going?" she asked carefully. She hoped very much that their destination wasn't an execution chamber.

"You'll see," the Corellian. answered. They continued until they reached a turbolift. "I can take the prisoner from here." The stormtroopers nodded and then continued down the hall stiffly, almost as if they were resuming some kind of preprogrammed route.

"What's wrong with them…" Kasyndra muttered.

"They're a bit out of sorts," the Corellian answered as the turbolift doors opened. He stepped through and motioned for Kasyndra to follow. "Mind control can do that to you," he added, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Mind control?" Kasyndra asked, startled. "Who are you?"  
 **"** Lieutenant Hal Horn, Corellian Security Force, Special Investigations Division," he answered, his eyes up at the floor indicator above the turbolift door. The numbers were getting smaller, and then became negative. They were going to the basement. Finally he glanced at her. "Can you keep a secret?"

Kasyndra remained apprehensive, but nodded carefully. "I used to be a Jedi. An apprentice only, but...I still remember a few tricks."

"A Jedi?" she repeated, shocked to her core.

"Yes. And an old friend of your mother's. I knew her back before the Clone Wars. She helped my Master and I track down some thieves who were lifting artifacts from Corellian University."

"Are you...helping me escape?" Kasyndra asked. Some part of her thought this must be a dream, that she would wake up back in her cell, still locked away and more hopeless than ever.

"That I am," he answered. The turbolift reached its destination, the very bottom of the prison complex. The doors opened, revealing a darkened forest of support columns. Down here the moisture was so thick that swampy water covered every bit of the ground. "Follow me."

Kasyndra glanced over as Hal retrieved a cylinder from beneath his tunic. She expected, excitedly, for the blade of a lightsaber to burst into existence. Instead an ordinary beam of light erupted from the side of the glow lamp. He led the way through the columns for a distance that seemed to stretch into infinity. Finally they reached a solid wall with a narrow corridor, warped with age, leading further into the dark.

Hal reached over, handing Kasyndra the glow lamp. "Keep going straight on, don't make any turns. Eventually you'll reach an outlet that goes into the sewers. I left you some clothes there, a Corellian Security Force uniform, and a generic i.d badge."

"You really think I will pass as a security officer?" Kasyndra asked skeptically.

Hal smiled and laughed gently. "If anyone questions it, just tell them you are in the youth program, drug enforcement division. After you reach the outlet and change your clothes, you'll find a locator device in your pocket. Activate it and a friend of mine will pick you up."

"Okay, seems pretty straightforward," Kasyndra said, nodding. "What about Yan Po Lom?"

"He was transferred after they arrested you to an Imperial star destroyer. I believe they have taken him back to your homeworld. Jappa."

"Why would they take him away and keep me here?"  
 **"** He has a higher intelligence value to the Imperials," Hal answered simply. He took a step away from her and began to walk back the way they had come.

"Don't you need a light?" she asked as the darkness began to surround him.

"I don't need a light to see in the dark," he answered, his voice cheery. "Good luck young one." A moment later he was gone, the sound of his footsteps disappearing soon after.

"Creepy," Kasyndra said to herself. She took a deep breath, which she instantly regretted due to the dank air, and continued on. A half hour later she found herself huddled alone on the very landing Hal had told her about, wearing a Corellian Security Force uniform identical to the older man's. She held the locator beacon in her hand, watching the green light on the small, wafer thin device blink on and off. She had no other indication that it was working. She hoped a signal was reaching whoever was on the other end...she had no idea how deep she was underground.

Kasyndra fell asleep for the first time in two days, despite her anxiousness. She had hidden herself behind a pair of ancient looking wooden crates. But she had been, in her exhausted state, oblivious to just how bright the green light on the locator beacon was in the darkness. When someone approached, as silent as the darkness itself, they could spot the light in the distance, casting a silhouette from behind the crates.

Kasyndra felt a hand upon her shoulder, squeezing tightly, and jump started awake. She cried out in alarm, but was instantly confused. A face almost identical to her own stared down at her. But then she noticed the difference. A few wrinkles here and there. Black hair instead of bright pink. No piercings.

"Hello sweetie," the eerily familiar stranger greeted. "It's been a long time."

"Mom?" Kasyndra asked, her voice breaking.

"It's me sweetheart," Asirya Par answered. Kasyndra jumped into her mother's arms for the first time in almost a decade, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I missed you so much."


End file.
